


Offline

by NotEvenCloseToStraight



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Bond is a menace, But just barely, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meetings, Flirting Via Comms, Friends to Lovers, Funny Gifts, Gift Giving, James Bond Has Issues, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mission Fic, Mycroft Holmes - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Casino Royale, Q is a Brat, Q is a Holmes, Romantic Friendship, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Snarky Q, With Each Chapter, flirty texts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-21 15:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenCloseToStraight/pseuds/NotEvenCloseToStraight
Summary: Bond isn't sure what to think of the new Quartermaster, of the high tech gear and the way the man is always in his ear thanks to mandatory ear pieces for all agents. The old Q hadn't required those things after all, and everything had worked fine.But Bond is a risk now, after Vesper, seeming to kill without noticing, without caring, and there are quiet rumors that he wont seduce his targets anymore, and that his drinking is out of control, so Q is told to keep a sharp eye on him and his mental health.Bond is irritated with the constant presence of Q, but somehow their traded insults turn into teasing jabs, and then genuine affection, and eventually they move from talking via earpiece on missions to texting every day, with messages growing more and more explicit as time goes on.But Q is nothing less than professional whenever Bond is around, and the agent has a hard time reconciling the aloof Quartermaster with the teasing devil that has him bringing himself off desperately at night to the naughty texts.Q is a man connected to his tech, and Bond is a man living in the field, and the only way to be together is offline somewhere.But which one is going to take the first step?





	1. Chapter 1

 

“You’re my new Quartermaster.” It was a statement, but the disbelief in the voice made it sound more like a question, and Q braced himself before turning around, ready for another round of questions about his age, his looks, his level of skill and the inevitable-- _this must be a joke, where’s the real Quartermaster?_

 

“Yes. Nice to meet you, 007.” Q said flatly, keeping his expression carefully blank as he studied the agent in front of him. Bond was still favoring his right shoulder, which wasn't a good sign, and he hadn't shaved in a few days either. The slight whiff of alcohol, but this was England, and he was an agent, so nothing less was to be expected. A stubborn jaw, and more frown lines than smile eyes, and glacier blue eyes that were studying Q just as intently as Q was studying him.

 

“Charmed, I'm sure.” was all Bond said after several minutes, and Q gave a short nod before going back to his computers, picking up his cup of tea and taking a sip before clicking back into his system.

 

“Oh, hello James!” Eve walked through the doors. “M is looking for you, but he wanted to be sure you met the Quartermaster first.”

 

“Yes, we’ve met.” Bond said without looking away from the back of Q’s head. “A bit young isn't he?” he lowered his voice so only Eve could hear him. “He’s still got his spots. How did Six even find him?”

 

“He found us.” Eve kept her voice appropriately quiet as well. “He hacked our system to download his own plans for our surveillance system, and then told the agents who tracked him down that it was about bloody time they found him, and if they had _his_ system they would have found him faster.”

 

“Cheeky bastard.” Bond couldn't help the thread of admiration in his voice and Eve inclined her head in agreement.

 

“M thought so as well. Bloody brilliant though.”

 

“Hm.” Bond narrowed his eyes. “Little thing. I could break him in half if I wanted.” he put his hand on the small of Eve’s back and steered her towards the doors. “Lets go see what M wants, shall we?”

 

They were almost out of the room when the Quartermaster spoke again. “Bond?”

 

“Q.”

 

“You could _try_ to break me in half, but I have my doubts as to your effectiveness.”

 

“What did you say?” Bond had taken three steps toward the man before Even managed to stop him. “What did he say to me?”

 

“You could always prove me wrong, I suppose.” The boffin turned to send him an appraising look, cocking a head full of unruly hair. “Old dog and new tricks and all that.”

 

“Did he just call me an old dog?” Bond demanded, and Eve tried not to laugh as she dragged him out of the room.

 

Q smiled the littlest bit before going back online to the mission in Nicaragua. “Alright, 002, let’s get you out of there, shall we?”

 

*************************

*************************

_“Bond, what the hell are you doing?”_

 

“What does it look like I'm doing?” Bond answered irritably, stripping off his tie to wrap it around his arm, trying to stem the flow of blood from a gunshot that had grazed him. “I could stop of course, if you prefer me bleeding out on the basement floor of this hotel.”

 

“ _I'd prefer if you listened to my directions and then didn't end up shot!”_ Q sounded exasperated, half past furious really, and Bond briefly considered tossing the earpiece away. The old Q had never felt the need to listen in on his missions, but apparently _this_ one did.

 

“Q, I've had you in my ear for thirty six hours now and you are starting to get on my  nerves.” Bond pulled the tie tight, and jumped back up to his feet, shoving his gun in his back holster. “Tell me how to get out of this place.”

 

_“Well since you decided to take a detour instead of following my directions the first time--”_

 

“Tell me how to get the hell out of here first, and then I can listen to you preach later!” Bond interrupted. “Be useful for more than scolding me for using too many bullets and complaining that I don't listen to you! Is your job to help me or to berate me?”

 

_“There’s an elevator. Three floors up and then a hundred yards to your right, around the corner, top floor, I have an extraction chopper en route. Try not to kill anyone on your way, please.”_

 

“No promises.” Bond grunted and took off running up the stairs, cursing under his breath every time he turned a corner and there were more stairs. He was getting too old for this shit.

 

*********************

**********************

It wasn't until Bond had been extracted and deposited in a safe house that Q spoke again.

 

_“At least tell me you managed to get the computer chip? Otherwise you killed all those men for nothing.”_

 

“Christ!” Bond jumped and cursed, his hand flying to his gun automatically, cursing all over again when he heard the amusement in Q’s voice.

 

_“At ease, 007.”_

 

“I got the computer chip.” he groused, put off by being caught unawares. “Why don't you get the hell out of my ear? The mission is over and I'm halfway to drunk and certainly not going anywhere tonight.”

 

_“It's my job to be present with you at all times until you are back on our soil, 007. I may not be speaking, but I am listening, and if you need anything you only need to say it.”_

 

“And if I take this annoying thing out of my ear? How on earth will you keep tabs on me then?” Bond goaded, pouring himself another drink and heading towards the bedroom.

 

_“I will tap into the hotel systems and observe you this way. It's for your own protection 007. Welcome to the new millennium, someone is always watching, and for you, that someone is me.”_

 

“Seems to me as if I'm being babysat.”

 

_“Yes, well, if you didn't spread wanton destruction about you as a toddler does, you wouldn't need a nanny, would you?”_

 

Bond ripped the earpiece out and threw it across the room.

 

Brat.

 

***********************

***********************

 

“Q.” Bond dropped his watch, his gun and his phone on Q’s desk. “My equipment returned as ordered.”

 

“I ordered it returned in one piece.” Q had an entirely irritating habit of never taking his eyes off the half a dozen screens in front of him, one hand constantly typing, the other usually taking notes or lifting his cup to take a sip. “And where is the rest of it.”

 

“Oh, didn't your predecessor tell you? I am notorious for not returning things, you’re lucky I brought anything back at all.” Bond was grinning, or rather, smirking in that infuriating way, eyes narrowed as he watched Q for any reaction to his words.

 

“You know as well as everyone else that I never met the former Q, but I was warned as to your penchant for ruining your tech. Tell me, did you drive over your phone on purpose, or is that just normal wear and tear on a mission?” The Quartermaster still hadn't looked at him, and Bond couldn't believe how angry that made him.

 

“If you had ever set foot in the field, you would know the answer to that question.”

 

“I know the answer to that question and every other one you will probably ask me.” Q said calmly. “I was just curious as to what your answer would be. If you would lie to get into my good graces, or be your usual blunt self just to irritate me.”

 

“I'll have you know--”

 

“Not that way, please, thank you. When I said _right_ I mean it.” Q interrupted and when Bond looked at him blankly, Q tapped his earpiece, then pointed to the screen. “You didn't think I was staring at the screens just to avoid looking at you, did you 007? I have a whole other mission going on, which is why I must ask you to leave the remnants of your tech and leave me be.”

 

“I did think you were avoiding looking at me.” Bond stated and Q seemed to twitch a little, which was… _interesting_. “It must be difficult for you to look agents in the eye, young thing like you. 00’s are some of the most dangerous people in the world, and you are--”

 

“The power behind them.” Q finished. “You are a blunt instrument Bond, and I am the high tech that makes you useful. Now if you’re quite done--”

 

“You still haven't looked at me.” Bond cut in, not even sure why he was insisting on it, but something about the way Q was suddenly on guard, the way he was pushing him away made Bond want to press the issue. “The least you could do is make eye contact, or is that difficult for you, considering you spend all your time behind computers and not in the real world?”

 

“The real world.” Q nodded, then sighed and put his keyboard down, finally turning to face Bond. “Forgive me, Bond. I tend to forget that the blinking dots on my screen and the voice in my ear belong to real people.”

 

“Oh.” Bond was taken aback by the apology. “Well then.”

 

“Yes. Well then.” Q faced him fully, looking young as hell in fitted slacks and a button up shirt under an ugly cardigan, his hair rumpled and green eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. “Welcome home, Bond. Kudos for a safe return and all that.”

 

“Hm.” Bond replied, and spent an inordinate amount of time looking the Quartermaster over. “You really _do_ have spots, don't you?”

 

“Rather spots than grey hair.” Q responded primly, and turned back to his computers. “Till next time, 007. Ta.”

 

Bond had left Q branch and made it halfway to the garage to fetch his car before he could even begin to think of an appropriate response, and by then of course, it was too late.

 

“Impertinent little shit.” he muttered as he slammed the car to his door.

 

But he smiled, just a twich of his lips really, because despite the new Quartermasters age and frankly infuriating attitude-- Bond liked him.

 

It had been a while since he had been challenged, with most agents and support at Six going out of their way to avoid him, or make sure he had what he needed so there was no reason for him to speak to them at all.

 

Bond new that since Vesper he had become nearly impossible to work with. He knew M was worried that he would never fully recover, he knew they wondered if he killed because he liked it, because he didn't feel any remorse for it anymore.

 

Maybe he did.

 

Vesper had taken such a big piece of his heart, sometimes Bond didn't think it beat anymore. And no one knew that he didn't sleep with women or men anymore on his missions. Seduce them yes, but it was easy enough to seduce someone without actually completing the act, or to satisfy them, and then beg off before they tried to reciprocate. Most of them ended up dead anyway, so there was no reason to worry, he supposed.

 

In fact, it had been so long since Bond had felt anything resembling _desire_ that it had been a shock to think that he was attracted to the new Q. And he wasn't, not really, it was just the challenge the man presented that had Bond intrigued.

 

He could match wits with the Quartermaster, but his heart was long past anything like that.

 

******************

Q watched from his desk as 007 tore out of the garage and headed towards the street. The cameras in the area ran constantly, but it was set to alert him anytime anyone set foot in the garage.

 

Safety, of course.

 

He had been warned that Bond wasn't alright, that he had developed an overly eager trigger finger and killed almost indiscriminately since returning after the debacle with Vesper. Q knew Bond had killed almost everyone he came across on the last mission, and still had been able to have a drink and sleep the entire night.

 

It was fascinating, and _horrifying_ how he disconnected like that and Q knew better than to think about it.

 

But he watched anyway as Bond left, and smiled thinking about the look of shock on the agent’s face when he had made the comment about grey hair versus spots.

 

This was going to be an interesting partnership, between them.

 

Interesting, indeed.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

 

“How are you getting on with the new Quartermaster?” M asked, glancing up from his desk just long enough to wave Bond into a chair. “He seems to be adjusting as well as can be expected, but I will confess to only having spoken with him a handful of times.” 

 

“I think he’s an obnoxious twit who has been given too much power because he knows how to turn a computer on.” Bond snorted, then added entirely as an afterthought-- “Sir.” 

 

“Mmhmm.” M didn't sound the least bit fazed. “His report on you wasn't entirely complimentary either, but when has Q branch ever been pleased with 00’s?” 

 

Bond smiled, or at least his lips moved in semblance to a smile. “Yes well, they shouldn't give us expensive things to break.” 

 

“Quite.” A file was pushed across the desk towards him. “New assignment, then. I'm sure it won't be too taxing for you. Beautiful women, lovely locale, you will be loitering about in a casino, should be just the thing to get you back to your usual self.”

 

“Pardon?” 

 

“Bond.” A long suffering sigh. “You are aware of the Minister's issues with your recent behavior. Do use this assignment as a chance to waylay his concerns and reestablish yourself as a top agent.” 

 

“When have I been anything less than a top agent?” Bond asked stiffly, and M finally looked up to meet his gaze steadily. 

 

“Since Vesper ripped your heart out and tossed it somewhere overboard in Venice, I believe. I have done my best, as did my predecessor, to keep the details of that hushed, but I cannot stifle the rumours and if you do not make a recovery soon, I will not be able to stifle the inquiries. I don't want to lose you, Bond, but I cannot have a loose cannon gadding about with a license to kill and a death wish. You understand?”

 

“I do not have a death wish.”

 

“Psych exams and your recent behavior would give evidence to the opposite, I'm afraid.” M steepled his fingers, pinning Bond with a concerned look. “If you need time off, take the time. If you need reassigned, tell me. Do not, and I cannot stress this enough, do not continue operating in this manner if it will lead to destruction. I will not have you compromising yourself, your missions, or other agents. Do I make myself clear?” 

 

“Perfectly, sir.” Bond stood to his feet quickly, his jaw set stubbornly, and took the file. “Anything else, sir?” 

 

“That will be all. Report to Q branch before you go.” 

 

M knew by the set of Bonds shoulders and the pace of his stride that the agent was  _ furious _ , but it couldn't be helped. There had been questions about Bonds effectiveness, about his usefulness. His psych exam had come back horrendous, and even though his aim had improved as his shoulder healed, he was still a far cry from the marksman he had been. 

 

The pure fact was, Bond was slipping, maybe had already slipped, and if he didn't recover he would be forced to retire. And forced retirement from MI6 never meant drinks on a beach or a cottage in the country with a pension. 

 

It meant a suicide mission, a bullet courtesy of another agent, a quick merciful kill, and an obituary that marked you as a hero, killed in the line of duty, and  a star on the wall. 

 

There was simply no other way to retire the most dangerous agents in the world, and M hoped to god Bond would pull himself together before something like that became necessary. 

 

********************

********************

 

“M says you have new gear for me?” Bond asked as he entered Q branch, catching the Quartermaster before he disappeared into his office. 

 

“Ah, Bond.” Q replaced his glasses, blinking his eyes rapidly, because at this point he had been up for almost twenty seven hours trying to get 006 out of a situation in Korea. “Ready to go save the world then?” 

 

“We’ll see.” Bond said shortly. “Gear?” 

 

“Right.” Q looked at him for a long moment, studying the nearly defeated look in Bonds eye, the weary slouch to the agents shoulders. “How are you feeling, Bond?” 

 

“Like I need a drink.” Bond snapped. “Give me the bloody gear, Q.” 

 

“Right.” Q repeated and turned on his heel and headed towards one of the tables where several items were laid out carefully on the stainless steel. “Now pay attention, 007. I don't understand why you insist on the Walther, but here it is repaired from your last mission.” 

 

“Lovely.” Bond said dryly, slipping the gun into his shoulder holder. “Next?”

 

“One phone, complete with GPS naturally, all the usual gadgets. Tied into our mainframe so if a quick identification is needed simply take a picture and upload accordingly.  Shockingly expensive, so try not to run this one over.”

 

“Normal wear and tear, Q.” Bond grunted, and green eyes stared balefully over thin rimmed glasses. 

 

“Right. Watch, standard issue. Waterproof and--”

 

“It doesn't shoot lasers?” Bond interrupted, just to see if the Quartermaster would glare at him again, because the soft look from earlier had made him uncomfortable. 

 

“There has never been a valid reason for watches to shoot lasers.” Q retorted. “Nor for a pen to explode, even though I have heard you are particularly fond of that ridiculous gadget.” 

 

“What else have you heard I am particularly fond of?” Bond raised an eyebrow, only to be pointedly ignored by the other man. 

 

“Everything else is standard-- radio transmitter, pocket knife, that sort of thing. Passport and identification of course and---and-- 007 are you even listening?” 

 

Bond wasn't listening at all, his eyes firmly trained on the pretty brunette that had walked through the door. The lab coat she was wearing was unbuttoned, doing little to hide the low cut blouse and high waisted skirt that showed off a shockingly tiny waist offset by well rounded hips. Pouty red lips with perhaps a touch too much lipstick and dark brown eyes, one of which dropped in a flirtation wink that Bond readily returned. 

 

“Honestly, 007.” Q sighed. “Could I finish my demonstration before you go preying on my assistants?” 

 

“Don't be jealous, Q.” Bond answered, purposefully taking a long time to look away from the woman and back at Q. “I'd wink at you too if you had half a mind to be polite.”

 

“My loss, I'm sure.” Q closed his eyes briefly.  _ God  _ he was tired. “Now if you would let me finish, this is the final item for you.” He held up an earpiece. “You are to wear this from the moment you step out of Q Branch until the moment you return here. It is dialed in specifically to me, and only you and I, or one of my assistants should I be offline for any reason.” 

 

“I don't need you in my ear.” Bond didn't reach out to take the piece. “I am perfectly capable of running a mission by myself.” 

 

“Be that as it may, you  _ will  _ wear this from the moment you step out of Q Branch until the moment you return. I will only speak if I need to, but you may ask for anything ,anytime, and someone will be here.” Bond didn't look impressed and Q sighed again. “It is for your protection and to make your life easier, Bond. Please do not make my life unnecessarily difficult by refusing.”

 

“It's bad enough I have a bloody implant in my arm, now I have to listen to you too?” 

 

“Just take it. For the love of god.” Q held it out impatiently, and Bond finally snatched the ear piece and put it carefully in his ear. “There now, not so difficult. Can you hear me?” 

 

“Like you’re standing in front of me.” Bond replied blandly and Q looked like he was physically holding himself back from snarking something in reply. 

 

Instead the Quartermaster managed a tight smile. “Very good. Please take your gear, have a safe mission, do try to return it all in one piece, and I would appreciate it very much if you managed to refrain from molesting my assistant on the way out.” 

 

“You don't have to worry about me seducing your minions, Q.” Bond started scooping the tech from the table, putting the watch on quickly and adding his own passcode into the phone. 

 

“By all means enlighten me as to why.” Q was already back at his computers, halfway to dismissing Bonds presence. 

 

“She’s not my type.” Bond explained with a smirk, and waited for Q to take the bait, because he knew the Quartermaster would, he knew the bright eyed imp wouldn't resist a chance to have the last word. 

 

“Not your type?” Q didn't disappoint, not stopping his typing but sending Bond a triumphant little glance. “Smart, then?” 

 

“Single.”

 

Q didn't reply to that, but he wondered for a long time if Bond had started avoiding single women because of Vesper. Less chance of getting his heart broken again if the woman was already taken, wasn't there? 

 

_ “Perhaps you should start looking at your minions.” _ Bonds voice came over the earpiece and Q raised an eyebrow, surprised the agent had elected to make contact first.  _ “You seem like you could do with a good shag. Might get rid of a bit of starch in that hideous cardigan you wear. _ ” 

 

“While I appreciate your concern for both my wardrobe and my love life, I will have to admit that even if I  _ was  _ in the habit of fraternizing with my assistants, which I am not, Tessa is not my type.” 

 

“ _Not your type_.” Bond repeated, and he sounded like he might laugh. _“Not smart enough? Or too smart_?” 

 

“Too female.” Q answered, surprising himself with his own honesty. His sexuality wasn't a secret, he supposed, but it hadn't come up in conversation, and there were a dozen ways he could have answered Bond, so he wasn't sure why he had decided to be so...specifically truthful at that moment. 

 

Maybe it was that little flash of vulnerability that Bond had shown when he first entered Q branch, before he hid it with sarcasm and leering at the women. Maybe it was the way Bond had sounded so entirely bitter when he spat  _ single _ . 

 

Either way, Q had felt the need to be real with the agent, even it was for just a second, even if it was with something as inconsequential as why he wasn't interested in Tessa, and he surprised himself with how easy it was to be  _ real  _ when they were talking via earpiece instead of trading jabs face to face.

 

He wasn't as surprised as Bond though, who stopped dead in his tracks for a full thirty seconds as he tried to reconcile  _ that  _ piece of information with everything he already thought he knew about the Quartermaster. 

 

“Too female.” he felt like a damn parrot, repeating everything Q said. “Too  _ female _ .” 

 

“If you’re quite done with that, do tell me when you make it the airport, Bond.” Q took a sip of his tea, smiling to himself at the shock in the agent’s voice. “I’ll have a ticket waiting at the counter for you.” 

 

“Right.” Bond took a deep breath. “Right.” 

 

_ Too female.  _

 

Why were those two words the most interesting words the Quartermaster had ever said? 


	3. Chapter 3

“There’s your target there, Bond. Green dress,blonde hair.” Qs voice came through the comm and Bond just barely resisted rolling his eyes. 

 

This was their sixth mission as Quartermaster and Agent and Q  _ still  _ felt the need to micromanage everything. Bond only tolerated it because the man was completely intriguing in a self assured snarky way, and more often than not the conversations over their comms were the best parts of the mission. Q could switch from giving directions to insulting Bond with some smoothly worded comment and then go right back to being professional, and Bond wasn’t sure sure when it happened, but somehow the mutual slights had slid into fond sarcasm and if he was being honest-- he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

 

But it was his turn to contribute to their snark-bout so he cleared his throat and his mind and stepped right back into the game. 

 

“Yes, Q, thank you for your observation but you nagged me so thoroughly I  _ did _ end up reading the file. Studied the pictures as well.” He took a sip of his martini, zeroing in on the woman who was less walking through the casino lobby as  _ gliding in  _ on impossibly thin heels and a dress cut excessively high up her leg. 

 

_ “ _ **_Housewives_ ** _ nag 007, I threatened you with bodily harm if you disregarded the file and jeopardized the mission. At least this one seems your type.”  _ Q replied dryly and Bond crinkled his eyes. It had been something of an ongoing joke between them for a few months now, Q pointing out whenever a woman seemed to fit Bonds requirements.

 

Not that he had many requirements of course, which made their little game all the more amusing. It hasn’t come up yet, whether Q had a type that wasn’t  _ too female _ but Bond was chomping at the bit to know so—

 

“My type.” he repeated, his lips barely moving behind his glass as he watched the woman. “And how would you know that she is  _ my  _ type?” 

 

_ “Because that is her husband who is currently molesting her, and you do prefer the married ones.”  _

 

“Hardly a molestation, Q.” Bond tried not to smile. “But you are correct--she is in fact my type. Am I to assume that he is yours, then?” 

 

_ “Rather too brunette for my liking _ .” was Q’s instant answer. “ _ You should be wary of assuming things about me.”  _

 

“I am learning that.” Bond waited a beat before asking, “So you prefer blonds then?”

 

“ _ Gentlemen usually do, 007, isn't that what Ms. Monroe would have us believe? Now, focus please or you will miss your opening _ .” 

 

“Q.” Bond drained his drink and stood to his feet, straightening his cuffs before heading towards the couple who was his mark for the night. “You should know that I  _ never  _ miss my opening.” 

 

“ _ Lovely imagery, thank you, Bond _ .” 

 

“Tell me, Q. Are you planning on listening in all night? To this entire endeavor?”

 

“ _ I'm sure I have better things to do than listen to you attempt to undress some poor unsuspecting woman _ .” 

 

“Attempt?” Bond’s chuckle sounded rusty, like he never laughed at all. “Q, you are doubting my skill?” 

 

“ _ Never, 007 _ .” 

 

The woman didn’t know that the smile on his face wasn’t for her at all.

 

******************

******************

 

“Why James.” The woman’s voice is high pitched and giggly, the half a bottle of champagne given her thick accent a soft, slurry edge. “Are you trying to seduce me?” 

 

“Hmmm.” Bond hummed non committedly, drawing his fingers through her blonde hair, cupping the back of her neck to bring her up against his body.

 

Not hard though, just a brush, just a touch to make her gasp when she felt the muscle beneath his shirt, and he didn’t quite kiss her, only ran his lips over the corner of her lipsticked mouth and edge of her jaw.

 

“ _ James _ .” It was quite a bit breathier this time, the woman swaying into his body on her own and Bond’s hands went around her waist, gripping her through the silk of her dress. “Mmm kiss me.” 

 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Bond whispered and he kissed her, brushing their lips together lightly once and then again, parting her mouth with his tongue to tease against hers before withdrawing to suckle on her bottom lip. 

 

“Oh!” She sounded surprised, sounded pleased and Bond purred low in his throat, sliding his hands lower over lovely hips to pull her firmly against him. “My husband—“ she managed. “Will kill me if he finds out.”

 

“Don’t worry.” Bond lay the gentlest of kisses on her collarbone, pushing the thin strap of her gown off her shoulder. “As much as I’d like to, I won’t mark you. He will never know.”

 

“You’ll just remain my lovely British secret.” She moaned and Bond smiled to himself before nuzzling into her neck, his tongue trailing a wet path up her throat to her ear, giving a moan of his own when she shuddered beneath him. 

 

“As you wish, pet.” 

 

Clothes came off faster then, her gown onto the floor with the quiet  _ swish  _ of silk, her shoes next and she was quite a bit shorter, barely to Bonds shoulder without her heels on. 

 

“Tiny thing.” Bond murmured approvingly as he laid her out on the bed and let himself stare down at her. “Lovely.”

 

“I want you naked too, James.” She begged prettily, pulling at his shirt. “Come, darling.”

 

“Champagne first.” Bond bent to kiss her, laying his hand on her neck and stroking his thumb over her pulse. “I do love the taste of it on your lips.”

 

She giggled again, a sweet sound that made him smile, and obediently took a long drink from the glass. “Now then.” Her legs stretched out invitingly, one knee bent just enough to make room for Bond, to show off the perfectly smooth skin that ran from ankle to the vee between her thighs. “What are you waiting for?”

 

*****************

*****************

Q took a deep breath, his fingers tighter than they probably should be around his mug, taking sip after sip of the cold tea, unable to look away from his screens.

 

There wasn’t anything on them, nothing of import anyway. It was the live feed of the casino floor, the hotel lobby, the hallway to the woman room in case a disgruntled husband came charging into take his wife but Q still couldn’t make himself look away.

 

He hadn’t been prepared to listen to Bond spend hours seducing that woman, to hear the pretty things he said, the way that already smooth voice dropped even lower when he was trying to get his way. He hadn’t been prepared to watch through the elevator surveillance as Bond practically undressed her, gathering that dress higher and higher, letting the woman rock against his thigh, and kissing her the way he did.

 

He had heard Bond before of course, flirting and teasing and doing whatever it was he did that made women literally melt at his feet, but it had been..  _ bothering  _ him lately, and tonight seemed even worse.

 

All he could hear now in the comms was quiet voices, the woman’s giggle-which he supposed would be charming but to his ear it was atrocious-and Bond murmuring nonsensical things, muffled against her skin.

 

Ten minutes. 

 

_ Ten minutes  _ Q had been listening and why the hell didn’t Bond take his earpiece out? There’s a chance the agent had simply forgotten it was in as he tended to do every once in a while, but there was a bigger chance the bastard had decided to make Q’s evening interminable by forcing him to listen to his tryst.

 

Q wouldn’t put such a petty maneuver past the man, but what he  _ couldn’t understand  _ was why he was…

 

Not jealous. That would be ridiculous.  _ Not jealous _ .

 

But he hadn’t been lying when he said blonde men were his type, and Bond was definitely  _ blonde _ and  _ Christ _ Q should have taken the offer the other night, when a frankly adorable rugby player had approached him at the bar and unsubtly suggested they spend the night together. 

 

Q had turned him down and now he was wishing he hadn’t, because it had been  _ months  _ since he had had anyone and listening to Bond pant and sigh and—

 

“ _ Q. Where’s the safe _ ?”

 

“Bond.” Q nearly dropped his cup but he saved it at the last minute, clearing his throat. “That seemed fast.”

 

“ _ Well she’s not complaining _ .” Bond said shortly. “ _ Safe _ .”

 

“In the bathroom, there is a false tile on the bathtub, close to where the controls for the jets are.”

 

“ _ Thank you _ .”

 

Q waited a few minutes, unable to see into the room but trusting Bond to figure out where he meant. “Bond have you-“

 

“ _ Got it _ .”

 

“How many files? There should be six, but if he took any of—“

 

“ _ There’s six. I’ll take them back to my room and upload them _ .”

 

“I’m not expecting them until morning, 007. There has to be some perks to seducing someone, after all. Relax for the night and go offline. I’ll check in with you in the morning.”

 

“ _ Relax with a woman sleeping next to me?”  _ Bond chuckled but it wasn’t friendly. “ _ I’ll let you know when I’m back at my Hotel.”  _

 

Q refused to think about why he was relieved.

 

*********************

*********************

_ “You gave her a sedative.”  _ Q said and Bond paused in his undressing. “ _ That’s why you had her drink her champagne. Seven minutes for a heavy sedative to take effect, she will remember undressing with you and that is it.” _

 

“Well, Quartermaster, you seem to be smarter than I give you credit for.”

 

“ _ Why?” _

 

“I hardly think that’s your business.” 

 

“ _ I suppose you’re right, but there is no one but me here at Q Branch and apparently you are sleeping alone, so shall we share secrets?”  _

 

“You aren’t going to ask me if I ravished her while she was sedated?”

 

_ “Of course not.” _

 

“And why’s that?”

 

“ _ Most men over the age of twenty can’t get it up and done and be redressed within seven minutes.” _

 

Bond smiled as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Naturally.”

 

_ “Also because there is a document in your file detailing the deaths of two men who attempted to do exactly that to your landlady's daughter a few summers ago.” _ Q’s voice softened. “ _ Literally beat them to death, didn’t you?” _

 

“They deserved it.” 

 

“ _ I’m not disagreeing.” _

 

_ “ _ You’re surprisingly chatty, for how late it is, Q. Do you bother all the agents this much?”

 

“ _ No, I save all my bothering for the agents that vex me the most.” _

 

“And I vex you?”

 

_ “The most.” _

 

“Of course I do.” Bond stripped to his pants and climbed under the covers of the bed, sliding his Walter beneath the pillow. “Goodnight Quartermaster.”

 

“Goodnight Bond.”

 

*********************

*********************

_ “Bond.” _

 

_ “ _ Q.”

 

“ _ Why didn’t you stay with her?”  _

 

They both knew Q meant  _ why didn’t you sleep with her _ but he wasn’t about to ask that, which was fine because Bond wasn’t ready to answer. Their post mission comment talks had been edging towards more personal of course, but there was still a  _ line _ there, that once crossed would mean they couldn’t write off their conversations as strictly mission oriented, or pretend that they weren’t saying what they were heavily implying.

 

It was a game, one to keep their minds engaged, but there was a  _ line  _ there, a boundary to keep their hearts from being involved.

 

_ “Why didn’t you stay with her?” _

 

Bond stared up at the darkened ceiling for a long time. He hadn’t even closed his eyes after saying goodnight to Q nearly an hour later, but he still needed time to think about his answer. 

 

“Why are you asking?”

 

_ “Answer my Question first.” _

 

“I had no reason to. I needed to get into her room easily, needed to waylay suspicion so I could find the safe, and she doesn’t need to lie next to a man all night who was simply using her.” He took a deep breath. “Your turn.”

 

“ _ I’ve discovered it’s shockingly easy to be honest with other via comms, easier than face to face.” _

 

“So you ask all your agents personal questions while they are trying to sleep?”

 

_ “You are my only agent, 007. Outside of emergencies, the agents have other handlers assigned to them. I am here at Q branch because you are on assignment. When I said that the earpiece is for your safety and that if you needed anything, I would be here, I meant it.” _

 

“I see.”

 

“ _ Do you _ ?”

 

The  _ line  _ loomed before them both, a twitch away from being leapt across—

 

—And Bond was the one to step back from it.

 

“Goodnight, Q.”

 

“ _ Goodnight, Bond _ .”


	4. Chapter 4

**(Florence)**

 

“ _ Were you ever planning on opening the safe, 007, or are you going to wait until the owner of the house returns and ask him to open it _ ?” 

 

“All this gear you have given me, and not one of them is a bloody safe key?” Bond retorted, equal parts irritated and pleased to hear Qs voice in his ear as it had been strict radio silence for almost ten hours now. “You managed to give me a belt with a rappelling line, and not a safe key.” 

 

“ _ Quit bitching and do it the old fashioned way, Bond. You are so against my tech I thought you’d appreciate the chance to use your hands. _ ” 

 

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Bond grunted. “I already used my hands tonight when I managed to not only break into, but also steal from three different offices so maybe it's time for you to get up off that pert little arse of yours and do some work.” 

 

Silence on the comms, because did Bond  _ honestly  _ just say that? 

 

Then--  _ “I suppose that's fair. On your phone, please.” _

 

Bond found the Q-branch specific app and opened it, and then the safe a few minutes later. “Thank you, Q.”

 

_ “...you are quite welcome, 007.”  _

 

****************

****************

_ (Outside of Olten Switzerland) _

 

_ “Are you already back at your hotel, Bond?” _

 

“Why do you sound surprised?” Bond lay his gun on the table, unbuttoning his shirt as he headed towards the bathroom to start the shower. “You send me to this miniscule town to track down an art thief, and once the mission is over, I am back in my room to sleep.” 

 

“ _ Olten has several sites that are considered historically significant _ .” 

 

“What's your point?” Bond smirked a little at the jealousy lacing Q’s tone. “Are you saying I need some culture?” 

 

“ _ I'm saying an evening at the Naturmuseum could give you something to talk about the next time you need to seduce a target. _ ” 

 

“I don't need fancy words and visits to museums to seduce  _ anyone _ , Q.” He deadpanned. “But thank you for your concern. You should go offline for the night as well, you were looking three shades past death the last time i saw you.” 

 

“ _ As charming as ever, Bond, thank you. Do leave your earpiece in for the off chance that we need you _ .” 

 

“Yes, Quartermaster.” 

 

“ _ Do you realize you sound entirely devious when you use my full title. It completely erases any truth that might be in your statement. _ ”

 

“Are you on to my tricks, Q?”

 

“ _ Always, 007. _ ” 

 

************************

************************

_ (Q Branch-MI6 _ )

 

“Here for your gear, 007?” Q looked up from his desk when the agent cleared his throat from the doorway. “I need just a moment to finish here, please do  **not** feel free to wander through my lab, or to touch anything or to in any way engage in anything remotely flirtatious with my assistants.” 

 

“Q.” Bond’s pale blue eyes sparked in amusement. “One would think you wouldn't want me to play with your toys.” 

 

“That’s exactly what I don't want, Bond. Please don't even breathe too closely on most items out there, they are all worth considerably more than your life.” 

 

Q said all that without the expression on his face changing, his dark hair looking more rumpled than usual, an ugly mustard cardigan barely hiding a wrinkled shirt, his glasses smudged from constantly pushing them up his nose. 

 

“Have you been told you look ravishing today, Q?” Bond queried, and the Quartermaster leveled him with a glare. 

 

“I am well aware I look as if I have been living in these clothes for three days, I have been working particularly hard lately and haven't had time to go home. Furthermore, I am not  _ Moneypenney _ , Bond, your half arsed come ons will only aggravate me.” 

 

“You aren't the type to swoon over a coat tossed perfectly onto a coat rack?” Bond sighed dramatically. “Such a shame.” 

 

“Indeed. Out you go then, I'll be there shortly.” 

 

“Of course, Quartermaster.” Bond stepped closer to the messy desk and put a small package down before leaving the office. 

 

Q stared at the package for a full three minutes before reaching for it tentatively. 

 

Inside was a tiny snowglobe from the Olten Naturmuseum and a four piece sampler box of chocolate from the Lindt Chocolate shop in the same area. 

 

Another three minutes passed during which Q stared between the snow globe and the chocolate, his brain screeching to a halt as he tried to decide exactly  _ why  _ Bond had-- and  _ what  _ did it mean-- and  _ how  _ was he supposed to--

 

Infuriating, exasperating Agent. Entirely unpredictable and completely out of line and all together inappropriate behavior between an agent and a Quartermaster and  Q was more pleased than he would ever admit, blushing the tiniest bit perhaps that Bond had taken the time to think of him and buy him something \--

 

The chocolate was filled with coconut. Every single piece. 

 

_ Bastard _ .

 

Q put the snow globe on the corner of his desk and threw the chocolate into the trash before leaving his office. 

 

Bond was waiting patiently, watching the live feed through the screens as another handler guided an agent in the field through the city. 

 

“Bond, are you ready?” Q asked and Bond raised his eyebrows in answer, following him over to the customary table with his gear laid out then. “Right.” Q cleared his throat. “Pay attention 007.” 

 

**********************

 

_ “I hate coconut.”  _

 

Bonds earpiece crackled to life about a mile over the border into France, and he smiled to himself, shifting the wheel of the BMW enough to take the s-curve just on this side of too fast. “You don't say.” 

 

_ “What if I was allergic?” _

 

“What if, indeed.” 

 

_ “Bloody git.”  _

 

“I'm offended, Q, I went to the museum for you.” 

 

_ “And then tried to poison me.” _

 

“Trying to keep a firm distance from that  _ line  _ is all.” 

 

“ _ And coconut was your firm distance? _ ” 

 

“Is it working?”

 

“ _ Brilliantly _ .” 

 

**********************

**********************

_ (The Netherlands)  _

 

“Stop coddling your neck and get a move on 007!” Q snapped, tapping furiously at his keyboard, shifting through every CCTV in the area to try and keep his eyes on the escaping prisoner. “While you’re at it, explain to me how he managed to not only escape zip ties but throw you down a flight of stairs before executing a rather daring escape across city rooftops.” 

 

“ _ I'll have you know my neck is rather sensitive, Q _ .” Bond argued, but Q could see him up and running now so he breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Yes, well, I think everyone’s neck is sensitive to injury, Bond. Speed up please, you will need to take the next right, then test your dodging skill to get across the road and into the building he is hiding out in.” 

 

“ _ Wonderful _ .” Harsh breaths over the comms as Bond ran as hard as he could towards the intersection. “ _ And I wasn't talking about sensitive to injury _ .” 

 

“Bond, stop sassing me and get moving or I'll break your damn neck myself and then we can chat about how sensitive it is.” 

 

“ _ Moody Quartermaster _ .”

 

“Aggravating Agent.” 

 

**********************

**********************

_ (Q Branch, MI6) _

 

“Welcome back, 007. You are aware that you are supposed to be halfway to Moscow right now, aren't you?” Q took a large gulp of his tea, swallowing it along with the comment he was tempted to make about how Bonds jeans were almost indecently tight.

 

“That's why I'm here.” Bond said shortly, looking anything but pleased to be in Q branch so soon after returning from a mission. “Is my gear ready?” 

 

“Of course. Mostly standard equipment this time around, nothing entirely fancy. It took me a good part of four days to rebuild your phone, if you would let me upgrade you to another one it wouldn't be half as--”

 

“I like my phone.” Bond interrupted. “As you said, halfway to Moscow, so if you would--” 

 

“Right, then.” Q cleared his throat, sending Bond a quick inquisitive look at his short answers, but opting not to say anything about the agents surly attitude. “Phone, gun and ammo, and this--” He handed Bond a clear packet with four white pills.

 

“Are you drugging me, Quartermaster?” Bond lowered his voice. “Isn't that crossing some sort of line? Even if it isn't the one we’ve been avoiding.” 

 

“Hardly a line, 007.” Q dropped his tone to match Bonds. “And speak for yourself about avoiding  _ anything _ . These are sleeping aids, effective within five minutes. They should assist you in those  _ hard  _ nights you spend alone.” 

 

“Piss off.” Bond snorted, but he smiled the littlest bit,  and maybe his eyes sparked when Q mentioned not avoiding anything, but the look was gone too soon to be sure, and Q wasnt going to ask anyway. 

 

Instead he replied, “No need to be vulgar.” and “Do try to return everything in one piece, 007.”

 

“Are you concerned about the gear or the agent?” Bond challenged as he gathered everything up. 

 

“The gear.” Q said without hesitating. “I have no compunction about having medical take your pieces and sew them back together, or toss them out the window as necessary.” 

 

“Heartless bastard.” 

 

“Good luck, 007.” 

 

*********************

It wasn't until Q was back at his desk that he saw the new snow globe from the Netherlands, just as tiny as the first one with a note--  _ “The least you could do is say thank you.”  _

 

Q grinned and put the snow globe on his desk next to his other one, tapping his ear piece to activate it, but just as he started to tell the agent  _ thank you _ , he spotted the toy on the other side of his desk. 

 

The pet toy. 

 

The  _ dog  _ toy. 

 

“You know damn well I have cats.” 

 

_ “I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about.”  _ Bond was clearly laughing through his side of the mic. 

 

“Of course you don’t.” 

 

************************

************************

_ (Somewhere in Portugal) _

 

Bond’s phone chimed and he pulled it out of his pocket irritably. 

 

**_Q**I would prefer if this snowglobe came from the Navy Museum in Lisbon._ **

 

**_B-- I am nowhere near Lisbon._ **

 

**_Q**I am aware._ **

 

“I still have my earpiece in.” Bond said aloud. “Why are you texting me?”

 

“ _ Texting is as close to offline as I can get, 007 _ .” 

 

“So even though my day is over and you are not even at Q Branch, I am supposed to indulge your oddness and communicate via texting?”

 

“ _ No, you are supposed to be charmed by my endearing quirks and text me back _ .” 

 

Bond took a slow breath, feeling like the  _ line  _ was looming in front of him just begging to be jumped right across, and picked up his phone again. 

 

**_B--Who’s to say I even know how to text? I distinctly heard you refer to me as a dinosaur to one of your minions the other day._ **

 

**_Q**Come now, Bond, even the Tyrannosaurus Rex had two fingers that worked._ **

 

**_B--Now why would I text someone who likens me to a snarling, stomping, vicious cold blooded thing with more brawn than intelligence?_ **

 

**_Q**Am I required to answer that?_ **

 

**_B--Vexing minx._ **

 

**_Q**Belligerent Dinosaur._ **

 

**_B-- Why are you actually texting me? Don't you have cats to feed?_ **

 

**_Q** Would you believe I wanted to talk to you after hours?_ **

 

**_B--No._ **

 

**_Q**So jaded. One would think you worked for a government. Have you never just had conversation for the sake of conversation? Talked with someone because they make you smile?_ **

 

**_B--Not much makes me smile._ **

 

**_Q**But half a dozen tiny snowglobes and random gifts that are purposefully wrong for me do?_ **

 

**_B-- Do they make YOU smile?_ **

 

**_Q**...._ **

**_Q**...._ **

**_Q** Every time._ **

 

*****************

The snowglobe on Q’s desk was from the Navy Museum in Lisbon and accompanied by a horrid tie with cartoon vikings on it, the receipt proudly proclaiming that it also was from the gift shop in the Navy Museum in Lisbon. 

 

Bond tried not to smile when Q wore the terrible thing the next time he came in for pre-mission tech, but Q caught it anyway. 

 

*******************

*******************

( _ Berlin _ )

 

_ “Get the door open Bond! Put your back into it!” _

“Why don’t  _ you  _ come down here and put  _ your  _ back into it?” Bond growled. “Its not as if this is easy. But I suppose tapping at that keyboard is as easy as it gets for you, isn’t it?” 

_ “Temper, temper, 007. Focus less on aggravating me and more on escaping.”  _

“Id just like to do one-bloody-thing–” Bond grunted as he threw his weight against the door, tumbling through it finally. “–without you harping in my ear!”

_ “And Id like to get through one mission without worrying about having to gather up your broken bones. Alas we can’t both have our way, can we?”  _

“There, I made it. Any other directions, Quartermaster or can I take my earpiece out of my ear and have some peace?” 

_ “Leave your earpiece in, but as long as you don’t do anything stupid I should have no reason to bother you.”  _

“Thank God.” 

_ “If you do happen to make it back in one piece, Bond, perhaps we should have a discussion as to  _ **_whose_ ** _ back goes  _ **_where_ ** _ in this little dance of ours.”  _

“Sorry, what?” Bond froze and put his finger to his ear, sure he had heard the Quartermaster incorrectly.  “Q,  _ what  _ did you say?” 

“–Q. Q!” 

“ _ 007? Did you need some assistance? Im afraid the Quartermaster is offline at the momen _ t.” the new voice belonged to one of Q’s minions, and Bond bit back a curse. 

“No, sorry. Just cut out mid sentence with Q. Im sure he was just logging off and didn't realize he was still talking to me.” 

_ “Very well then _ .  _ If you need any assistance, let me know.” _

“Yes, thank you.” 

Bond tapped his piece off, and cursed again. Of course Q would go offline the moment he says something interesting. Or not so much interesting as edging closer and closer to that  _ damn line _ that Bond had been spending entirely too much time thinking about. 

He stopped into a souvenir shop to pick up a snowglobe, and a horribly green candy that apparently was made with local peppers and would be sure to make Q made that annoyed scrunched up face that always made Bond want to laugh. 

Or maybe kiss him. 

Bond wasn't entirely sure which one he would prefer more.

******************

**_Q**So 007  have you decided whose back goes where?_ **

**_B --I thought that would be up to you, with all your research and I'm sure careful notations about my romantic liaisons. You should already know my preference._ **

**_*Q*I have only observed your interactions with women, and since you sedate them before anything x-rated happens, I will admit to a certain amount of ignorance pertaining to your inclinations._ **

**_B-- That was a lot of words to say you aren't sure if I'm a top or bottom._ ** Bond sent the text and waited. 

And waited and waited and  _ waited  _ for almost fifteen minutes before his phone trilled again.

**_Q**Do you see the line you were so afraid to cross back there in the distance or have you decided to forge ahead without looking back?_ **

 

**_B--I have been told one of my more charming attributes is complete lack of hesitation before going after something I want._ **

 

**_Q**Charming? Or dangerous attributes? I remember you almost dying two weeks ago because you refused to wait for my information before running gun first into a warehouse._ **

 

**_B-- Quartermaster, are you avoiding the real conversation?_ **

 

**_Q** 007, Are you going to be irritating about this in the future?_ **

 

**_B--I'm hurt. I am the PICTURE of discretion. Why would you ever think I would bring this up in an embarrassing manner later on?_ **

 

**_Q**You are neither hurt NOR discrete. But I imagine you would take your cues from your partner and that every encounter would be different depending on the day, even though since Agents are Alpha Males, I think you prefer to top most of the time._ **

 

**_B--You imagine? Do you think about this often then, which position I would take in this little game of ours?_ **

 

**_Q**Good night, 007._ **

 

**_B-- Spoilsport._ **


	5. Chapter 5

“ _ Tell me Q, are you going to do anything useful for me today, or just critique my form as I do my laps through the city, hm _ ?” 

“I can assure you I wasn't paying any attention to your form, 007.” Q answered, scrolling idly through CCTV feeds until he caught sight of Bond again. There were better things to do with his time than watch Bond do his morning run, but he wasn't going to do them. This was much more fun. “Though I will say, your gait seems a bit off. Surely you didn't strain anything last night?” 

Bond huffed a laugh as he turned a corner and sped up a little. “ _ Thank you for your concern, but I am sure I didn't strain anything doing surveillance _ .” 

“Old man like you needs to stay limber for those necessary activities…” Q bit back a laugh when Bond stumbled on screen. “Do watch your footing, 007, we have a terrible medical plan, I doubt it covers broken legs due to negligence.” 

“ _ I've changed my mind _ .” Bond slowed to a walk, and Q watched as he took a long drink, stretching as he went. “ _ I think I am feeling a bit stiff. Pop over and help me with that, will you darling? _ ” 

Q chewed at his bottom lip for a second before replying, “Should I bring a particular cream?” 

Silence on the comms, then on screen Bond rotated until he found a camera and ever-so-calmly and not very subtly made a hand job motion just above his crotch before heading out with a slow jog. 

Q choked on his tea, backing up a few steps to cough and try not to spit all over his computers, waving off an assistant who sent him a concerned glance. “I'm fine, thank you, I'm fine. Just need a moment.” 

“ _ Are you _ ?” smugly, across the comms. “ _ Take all the time you need _ .” 

“Have a good rest of your run, 007.” 

 

**********************

**********************

 

“ _ That seemed fast, 007 _ .” 

“Are you going to make a comment like that every time I am with a woman?” Bond asked irritably, closing the door to the bedroom as quietly as he could. “If you aren't careful, you will start coming across as jealous.” 

“ _ Jealous? Of being tricked and then sedated and then stolen from? Yes, Bond, I envy your women ever so much. _ ” 

“Touche.” Bond said dryly, rifling through the papers in the study as fast as he could. “All I'm saying is that you don't have to comment on it.” 

“ _ I wouldn't want you to think I'm ignoring you. That would be terrible for your ego, wouldn't it _ ?” 

“Shut up, Q.” 

“ _ Make me _ .” primly, almost snippishly and Bond stopped mid motion in surprise. 

“You  _ are  _ jealous, aren't you? You know I don't go all the way with them, Q, don't worry that pretty head of yours.” 

“ _ I am most decidedly not jealous _ .”

“Of course not.” 

 

**********************

**********************

“All that bitching you do about making sure you always have a safe key, and yet you opened that safe without it, didn't you?” Q mouthed a thank you to one of his assistants as she handed him a file. “Could it be that you complain just to hear yourself talk?” 

“ _ Perhaps. The better explanation is that I enjoy practicing my fingering _ .” 

“Yes well, keep up the practice.” He smiled to himself, lowering his voice so no one heard the way their conversation turned. “It seems to me that your  _ fingering  _ needs work, you are looking rusty.” 

“ _ Rusty? I'll have you know I can play an instrument perfectly well _ .” 

“Sometimes  _ perfectly well _ isn't enough to make something sing, 007. I would think it takes more work than that.” 

“ _ Tell me _ ,  _ are you a tenor, Q?” _

Q laughed quietly. “A beautiful one.” 

_ “I'd love to hear you sing.” _

“You should work on your fingering, then.”  

**********************

********************* 

 

“Is it necessary to kill  _ everyone _ , Bond?” 

“ _ Q, when you are in this kind of situation, you are more than welcome to make judgement calls. Until then, stay in front your bloody computers and let me do my job _ !” 

“I'm only saying, I thought the older agents weren’t quite so trigger happy with their guns or anything else.” 

“ _ Don't worry, Q, I can reload very quickly _ .  _ Both my gun and everything else. _ ” 

 

******************

******************

 

The snowglobe had tiny little skaters on a frozen pond, and it snowed on them when Q tipped it over and it made him smile more than it should. 

Not as much as the wonderfully obnoxious bunny slippers that had come along with the snowglobe, and Q had kicked off his converse and slid his feet right into them under his desk where no one could see. 

He hated that he loved them. 

 

**Q-- This is the worst gift you’ve ever given me**

**B** You’re wearing them, aren't you?**

**Q-- Yes.**

**B** What else are you wearing?**

**Q-- Don't get your hopes up, 007, I can assure you I have not stripped down in my office. I am wearing exactly what I was wearing when you saw me a few hours ago, with the addition of these ridiculous slippers.**

**B**Shame, that.**

**Q-- Yes, what a shame, as if you would do anything about it if you were here.**

**B** Tempt me, Q, I'll turn around and come right back to Q Branch.**

**Q-- You’re on a plane.**

**B** Tempt me, Q.**

 

*******************

*******************

 

“Bond, stop being ridiculous and jump already.” Q zoomed in as far as he could, piggybacking on the camera feed from a news helicopter to see the man thrashing in the water. “If he drowns this whole op will be worthless.” 

“ _ I am not being ridiculous, it's a leap of a fucking cliff, Q. I cannot see why I need to rescue him badly _ .” 

“Because it would be wonderful if you could bring back just one person alive so we could learn some information about this organization we seem to be chasing, don't you agree?” 

“ _ I suppose _ .” 

“Off you pop, then, into the water to save the day. Try not to tear your skirts, darling.” 

“ _ Do not call me darling, Quartermaster _ .” 

“Stop acting like a damsel in distress then, 007.” 

“ _ A damsel in-- watch this-- _ ” Bond ripped off his jacket and his tie, untucking his shirt before leaping over the edge and diving into the water. 

It was a tense few minutes, everyone in Q Branch waiting anxiously, until Bond broke the surface holding onto the Russian and swimming hard to shore. 

A news reporter shouted something about a hero saving the man, there was an order through M to get people down there immediately to apprehend him and to have Bond report in as soon as possible. Q waited until Bond had reached land, until the man was clapped in handcuffs and dragged away. More cameras were available to hijack and Q hacked into all of them, getting every view of the agent he possibly could.

Bond stood there panting, water sluicing down his now transparent white shirt, shaking his head to clear his eyes, reaching up to tap his ear once to see if his comm was still working. 

“ _ There, you menace, I rescued your man, are you happy _ ?” he sounded peeved, and stalked away from the edge of the water, shattering his ruined phone against the rocks. 

“Good Christ, you’re bloody lovely.” Q muttered. “Look at you.” He transferred the feed to his own tablet and barked a few orders to his assistants before retreating to his office. “Bond, can you hear me?” 

“ _ I can hear you _ .” Bond sounded much less peeved suddenly. “ _ But I must have misunderstood you _ .”

“You absolutely did not misunderstand me, I meant exactly what I said.” Q’s eyes were wide, tracking Bond through as many cameras as he could access as the agent tried to get back to his hotel. “A shower seems to be in order, and if you would please check back in once you have settled for the night.” 

“ _ Does this mean that you won't be here to warm me up, Q _ ?”

“Believe that in this instance, I am just as disappointed as you are, 007.” 

 

*********************

*********************

 

“ _ Change of plans, 007, apparently the lovely Mrs. Torres will not be joining us tonight after all _ .” 

“That's fine.” Bond took a sip of his drink. “I'll take the pool boy to bed instead.” 

“ _ The pool boy. Honestly, don't you think he’s a little out of your league? _ ” 

“My God, you’re rude today, Q. If I didn't know better I would think you were jealous.” 

_ “We have been over this at least a dozen times--” _

“--and yet you still sound jealous, don't you darling?” 

“ _ Don't call me darling _ .” Q snapped and Bond grinned to himself. 

“Don't act like such a diva then.” 

“ _ Are you sure you have the experience necessary to seduce a pool boy, Bond? I daresay you are out of practice, if you have any experience at all. _ ” 

“All those comments about my age, and you think I lack experience? A young pup like you?” 

_ “I would wager I have more experience in this area then you do, would you like some advice?”  _

“More experience?” Bond repeated, raising his eyebrows and working to keep his voice down. “Why would you say that?” 

_ “Because you have gained your experience through the job. I have gained mine through...different avenues.”  _

“Different.”

“ _ Have you heard of Grindr, Bond? You have to travel and work for each of your experiences. I simply have to click the picture I like the best and meet up for something filthy _ .” 

Bond spit his drink all over himself, cursing loudly and waving the waiter over for a napkin. 

_ “Really, 007. With a scene like that, you will never get the pool boy into bed. Apparently you can hardly hold your drink.” _

“Christ, Q.” Bond muttered. “Is that really how you find your dates?” 

“ _ You could use that smartphone of yours for more than just a paperweight, and try finding a date like that as well.” _

“God forbid.” Bond motioned for another drink. “Please resist the urge to regale me with any stories of dates from a service called  _ Grindr _ .”

“ _ As you wish, 007 _ .” 

 

********************

********************

 

“007, welcome back.” Q managed to smiled briefly at Bond when the agent knocked on his door. “How was Iceland?” 

“Lovely, thank you. Have you ever been there?” Bond loosened his tie and dropped a perfectly wrapped package on Qs desk.

“No, when would I ever have time to go to Iceland when I am busy putting together all your destroyed tech?” He was irritable, and he knew it. Several long days and two nights in a row sleeping at Q branch had caught up with him, and even though he was looking forward to his post-mission snow globe from Bond, he was also about four hours past his breaking point and had had  _ enough _ . 

“Why Q, you seem upset with me.” Bond blinked at him innocently. “Whatever did I do? Should I pour water over my shirt and let you stare for a while?” 

Any other time maybe Q would have laughed, or maybe he would have had a snarky comeback, or perhaps even a comment to take their banter further into that  _ level  _ they had been dipping into lately, where things were less innocently flirty and more blatantly a proposition, but not today. “I am not in the mood, Bond.” he said crossly. “Is there a reason you are bothering me?” 

“Are you going to open your present? I brought it all the way from Iceland.” Bond sounded almost hurt, and Q sighed loudly. 

“Very well.” He put his pen down and reached for the little package and running his fingers over the beautiful paper in surprise. “ _ Oh _ . Oh, you wrapped it.” 

“That is incorrect. The store wrapped it, nuisance, I'm sure they charged me more for it. Practically a scam.” 

“Quite.” Q undid the paper carefully, and eyed the velvet box inside with trepidation. “Um, Bond, what did you--?” 

“Just open it, would you? Considering your appalling lack of trust in my skills as an agent, this may come as a shock, but the world might very well end if I'm not out there to save it. So stop wasting time, please.” 

“Oh, of course.” Q opened the box slowly, and gaped down at the-- “Cat collars. You bought me cat collars.” 

“Don't be ridiculous. I bought your  _ cats  _ cat collars. You get a snowglobe.” Bond thunked the usual tiny globe down on Q’s desk. “Why would I buy you collars?” 

“They are beautiful.” Q blinked down at them, at the different colored rhinestones against the soft leather. “Bond, thank you. I love them-- Esme and Emerson will love them.” He cleared his throat. “And of course I love my snowglobe, thank you.” 

“Of course.” Bond watched him for a long minute, something unreadable in those pale eyes, and Q looked right back, until he started feeling self conscious so he stood from his desk rather abruptly, putting the collars away in a drawer and lining this snowglobe up with the other dozen. 

“Shall we get to it, then? I'm sure you have  _ pieces  _ of your gear to return.” Q straightened his sweater with a quick jerk and went to step past Bond, who didn't move at all, and they ended up staring at each other with no more than a few inches separating them in the doorway. 

It was odd that Q had never realized how close they were in height-- Bond seemed so much larger than life with his swagger, and his attitude and the dangerous that poured off of him, but right here they were nearly eye level and when Q licked his lips fairly nervously, Bonds eyes dropped to watch, then snapped back up to meet his. Weeks and weeks of innocent and then  _ not  _ so innocent flirting seemed to catch up to them all of the sudden, conversations over comms and texts that had gotten increasingly suggestive and downright dirty at some points and neither one of them seemed to know what to say now that they were face to face. 

“So is this how you seduce your conquests then?” Q kept his voice very low. “By backing them into corners and not letting them escape?” 

“Are you trying to escape?” Bond answered just as quietly. 

“Not in the least.” Q whispered. “I'm not much of a runner.”  

Bond smiled, slow and predatory, leaning into Q’s space just enough to hear the quartermasters breath hitch. “But I do so enjoy the chase.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holla for some smutty smut-ness!

“Good work today, 007.” Q put his face in his hands and blew out a deep sigh. “That was---incredible. Honestly.” 

“ _ Thank you and your minions _ .” Bond sounded just as relieved and several steps past outright exhausted. “ _ I suppose Q Branch is more than ridiculous gadgets and lab coats after all.”  _

“I don't wear a lab coat, Bond.” Q reminded him, just for the pleasure of hearing the agent laugh, because there had been no less than four times today that he had been sure Bond wasn't going to be live long enough to make another smart ass comment, and Q had had agents die while he was watching and unable to help, but it hadn't ever choked him with panic like today had. 

No that wasn't true, he always panicked, even after close to a year he panicked horribly and wanted to scream when he couldn't help them from his computers but today-- today he had thought his heart would stop. He had stopped breathing entirely until Bond had come back on the mics with a demand for a  _ fucking drink _ when he finally made it out of here. He had gripped his tablet until he thought it would crack, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched until he gave himself a headache but thank god--  _ thank god _ Bond had finally made it. 

This was one time that Q wasn't going to bitch about lost gear or ruined tech or even the car that done an impressive roll off a bridge before exploding mid air in a spectacular ball of flame like something out of those ridiculous spy movies. 

He wasn't going to complain that Bond had used every bullet in his gun and most of the bullets in every gun he had taken off of every man he had killed. 

No, today Q was just grateful there was still a voice on the other end of the comms. 

“I don't wear a lab coat, Bond.” he repeated. 

“ _ And every time I get a view of that pert little arse of yours I am grateful _ .” Bond replied easily and Q didn't bother trying not to smile. “ _ Now. I need to go get my shoulder stitched up, and drown myself in a bottle, and sleep for four days.”  _

“Do check in once you are settled for the night.” Q murmured. “I was worried about you today.” 

_ “Go home and sleep, Q _ .” Bond instructed. “ _ I'll check in with one of your minions _ .” 

“Right. Good night, 007.”

“ _ Quartermaster _ .” 

**********************

**********************

_ “I thought I told you to go home _ .” Bond’s voice over his earpiece, and Q rubbed at his eyes and smiled into the nearly dark room. Just he and a few unlucky assistants were tasked with clean up duty after such a harrowing mission, so he had turned down most of the lights, let them order in food, and they were trying to make it through the next few hours.

“ _ Q? Why aren't you home _ ?” 

“Oh, yes well, unfortunately there is literal pounds of paperwork and clean up to do, and I am far too wired to sleep anyway, so here I am.” 

“ _ At least take your comm out. Get some semblance of being offline _ .” 

“If yours is in, mine will be too. I told you before Bond, if you are on assignment, I will be at Q branch just in case you need anything.” 

“ _ Ah well. Perhaps turn it down for this next part _ .” 

“This next part--” Q frowned. “What do you mean? Aren't you at the hotel for the night? What else are you doing?” 

“ _ I am at my hotel, but a man has certain needs, Q, and this has been a hell of a day and I need to relax, so feel free to take your comm out for a few moments, I'll text you when I'm finished _ .” 

“You’re being serious. You’re going to-- right now? While I am--” Q ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly. Was he actually going to do this? “Bond no-- no there is still some people here-- wait until I'm alone or--”

“ _ Take your earpiece out then _ .” Bond sighed deeply, then there was the sound of blankets being shuffled, another sigh as he apparently sank into the pillows. “ _ God, it feels so good to be in bed after this week. What a fucking awful week.”  _

“Indeed.” Q cleared his throat and made a decision that he was  _ sure  _ he would regret later. “Well, I am here if you need me, Bond, at least for another few hours. I will let you know if I do go offline. Just um- um-carry on, I suppose. My-my earpiece is on. Will remain on until--until things are finished.”

Near silence on the comms for several minutes, barely there sounds, Bond breathing evenly, what could have been a quiet moan and Q waited and  _ waited _ and shifted anxiously until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bond  _ say _ something. Tell me— tell me what you’re doing.” He closed his eyes. “I mean—“

“ _ I’m lying on my bed _ .” Bond interrupted. “ _ Rather big for just one, I imagine you would fit nicely on the pillows next to me. Tell me Q, do you sleep on your back or on your side?” _

“Neither.” Q said quickly, sending an anxious look at one of the other workers, making sure they stayed to their desk. 

“ _ A stomach sleeper then. You’d have to lay on your side when you sleep with me, I’d like that little arse of yours pressed right up into me _ .”

“I see.” Q took a deep breath, blinked a few times. “I could make that accommodation in the right instance.”

“ _ Are you at your computers or in your office _ ?”

“Computers.”

“ _ Thought I could hear you typing. I like your hands, have I ever told you that _ ?”

“No, I don’t think you have.” Q was working to keep his voice low, his tone even. “Why is that?”

“ _Long fingers_.” Bond grunted. “ _Clever fingers, doing all you do in front of those bloody screens. I’d love to see them wrapped around my cock, Q._ _So different from my own hands, you could drive me mad with yours_. _I bet you would know exactly what to do for me, exactly how to touch me, but I’d like to instruct you anyway. Have you listen to my orders for once.”_

“Elaborate.” Q said,  _ demanded _ really, and Bond gave a laugh that turned into a groan.

“ _ Start with just the tips of your fingers, up and down my cock. Want you kneeling between my legs, staring up at me, biting your lip like you do when you’re nervous and don’t think I can tell. _ ”

Q bit at his lip, then promptly released it, face burning when Bond laughed again.

“ _ Bit your lip, did you _ ?  _ Such pretty lips, Q. God I'd love your hand around me but your  _ **_mouth_ ** —“ another low groan and Q shifted and tugged at him collar. “— _ bloody gorgeous mouth stretched over me as you take it deep. Tell me Q have you ever thought about it _ ?”

“It has crossed my mind.” He said vaguely, sneaking another look at his assistants and pressing his palm to the front of his pants to try and hide his already too noticeable erection. Thank god for dim lighting.

“ _ Just crossed it _ ?” Bond was starting to sound breathless. “ _ How much of me can you take Q? Just a few inches? All of me? Can you shove your nose into my stomach and hold your breath if I’m pushing through your mouth? Would you let me fuck your face and spill down your throat and swallow all of me? Tell me, Q, tell me _ .” 

“Yes.” Q nodded even though Bond couldn’t see him. “Yes. That would be— that is acceptable, yes.”

“ _ The things I could do to you,Q. Just wreck you, throw you down on a bed and take you apart. Or better yet, over your desk. Have to gag you so you won’t yell and let everyone know what we are doing. Maybe I’ll pull your pants down your thighs and spread you open with my tongue and my fingers until you are begging me to fuck you. Will you beg for me, Q?”  _

“Bond.” Q barely got the word out, muttered it as he gave up on working and just held onto the table. “ _ Bond.” _

_ “I want to see you riding me, your beautiful body sliding up and down on my cock, want to get my hand around you and stroke you until you are shaking and crying out and can’t wait any longer and then I’ll stop, draw it out, make you wait.” _

_ “ _ Bond I can’t—“ Q took off out of the room, heading for the men’s loo at the end of the hallway, one that wouldn’t be used by any of the female assistants still with him tonight. “Please wait just a-“

Bond ignored him though, and kept right on talking, his voice lowering and breath speeding up as he got closer.

“ _ You know we are both clean, Q, would you let me finish inside you? Make you walk around all day with my come leaking from that gorgeous arse? Or maybe I’d push you down to your knees and decorate your lovely face. Watch you lick it off your lips and clean up with your fingers. _ ” 

“Oh fuck-“ Q locked himself in the furthest stall from the door and shoved his pants open, spitting into his palm and grabbing his cock. “Bond I’m close oh  _ fuck—“ _

“ _ Q _ —“ practically a growl and Q felt it through the comms clear down to his toes. “ _ Want to be inside you, fucking you, filling you— come for me darling come now now  _ **_now_ ** _ -!” _

Bond came with a shout, too loud in Q’s ear but he didn’t care because he was coming just as hard, stroking himself to completion, trying not to scream, biting his lip bloody as he whispered, “J-James. James  _ yes bloody hell oh oh god James.” _

******************

******************

It was a full ten minutes before Q gathered himself enough to even think about returning to his computers, and he spent it sagged against the bathroom wall, trying to come back down, listening to every panting breath from Bond, the way the Agent crooned his name, or at least his initial  _ Q _ , along with random nonsensically sweet phrases, something about  _ darling _ and  _ beautiful _ and  _ clever _ and Q smiled over every one. 

“ _Did you come, Q_?” Bond finally asked and Q choked out a laugh.

“Of course I did. Couldn’t you tell? What else was I supposed to do with you carrying on like that?” 

“ _I want to hear you say my name like that again_.” Bond sounded like he was smiling. “ _Exactly like that. Always._ ”

“I’m halfway to irritated with you, you know.” Q washed his hands and ran them through his hair. “You couldn’t have waited until I was home? Have me wanking in the loo like I’m— like I’m—“ he shrugged helplessly. “I’m irritated with you.” He repeated.

“ _You should have gone home like I told you to_.” Bond's voice was deep, heavy with exhaustion. “ _Seems unfair that I get to sleep now and you are going back to work.”_

“You deserve the rest.” Q said gently. “Besides, you have things to do tomorrow. I still expect a snow globe you know. Even if you nearly died. Honestly, that’s no excuse. You’ve almost died at least a dozen times this week alone.”

“ _Of course, Quartermaster. I wouldn’t forget your present._ ” A loud yawn. “ _I feel like it gives me a reputation as an awful lover to drop off like this but—“_

“I won’t hold it against you this time.” Q murmured. “Sleep well.” 

“ _You sound lovely when you come._ ” The words nearly slurred. “ _Absolutely lovely. Never will get tired of that_.”

Q smiled to himself, his hands clenching as he wished to be touching his Agent right then. “Goodnight, James.”

“ _Goodnight, darling_.”


	7. Chapter 7

Bond was sleeping in Q’s couch when the Quartermaster opened the door to his office, and even though he was surprised, he didn’t say anything at all, just clicked the door shut and crossed the room to his chair. **  
**

There was a beautifully carved box filled with loose leaf tea waiting on Q’s desk, right next to a little snowglobe from the South African Naval Museum, which meant that Bond had gone _hours_ out of his way after being injured and damn near killed on that mission to get to a museum he thought Q would visit just to buy him a souvenir.

Q opened the box and took a deep breath, closing it with a smile, and setting the snow globe aside before turning back to look at the Agent.

Bond looked a little worse for the wear, his right arm in a sling, a scrape over his eye, but he was whole and he was  _here_ and that was all Q could ask for.

He sat carefully on the side of the couch and bent over Bonds sleeping form, reaching to touch the edge of the sling, or maybe to brush his cheek or something else entirely sentimental because regardless of the  _snark_ between them and the unending exasperation with nearly everything Bond did, Q was fairly certain he had fallen in love with the brash agent somewhere around the tenth snow globe and the horrible gift that had accompanied it.

And he had an inkling that perhaps Bond felt something too, but he would never say anything about it to Bonds face. However the man was practically comatose right now, snoring softly, his face soft and unguarded and Q was a bare inch from running his fingers through that silvery blonde hair—

—Bonds eyes snapped open, snatching Q’s wrist in an iron grip, and holding him tightly.

Q froze, barely breathed, and those pale eyes softened, warmed and his grip gentled, laying Q’s hand over his heart.

“Hello, darling.” He said quietly and Q knew he turned bright red, a flush filling his cheeks and making him tug at his collar.

“B-Bond.”

Bond raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “What was that?”

“ _James_.” Q whispered. “Welcome home.”

“Better.” Bond smiled; and closed his eyes again, leaving Q’s hand over his heart. “Do you like your tea?”

“And my snow globe.” Q nodded. “Thank you. But aren’t you supposed to be recovering in medical?”

“Probably.” a half hearted shrug.

“And why aren’t you there?” Q pressed, letting his fingers curl into the white shirt beneath his palm. “With your injured shoulder and all?”

“You’re a clever man, Quartermaster, surely you can figure that out.” Bond shifted on the couch, a wrinkle of discomfort crossing his brow. “ _While_ you’re figuring that out, you should ask for a better couch. Surely MI6 can spring something more comfortable for their Quartermaster.”

“I don’t know if it’s exactly ethical to request a new couch just because you don’t like it, 007.” Q shook his head. “And if you hurt, perhaps you should–”

“Would you shut up and kiss me?” Bond interrupted, and slid his good hand to the back of Q’s neck. “I brought you tea, and I went to a bloody Naval Museum for a snow globe and now I’m laying here like an invalid. The  _least_ you could do is kiss me.”

“ _Oh_.” Q breathed, and leaned down until their lips nearly met. “We need to– we need to be careful with this, 007. Lines, and rules and all that sort of thing.”

“You’re going to make me think about rules when you’re beautiful mouth is right here waiting to be claimed?” Bonds voice dropped into a rumble. “How cruel of you, Quartermaster.”

“I’m serious.” Q insisted. “We need…boundaries.”

“Boundaries.” Bonds gaze flicked from Q’s green eyes down to his lips and back up again. “Alright.”

“We should keep this–” Q licked his lips and Bond muttered something about  _perfect_ and  _torture_. “–offline, you know? Off comms, away from Q Branch. I don’t want to end up in an awkward position with M or anyone else.”

“I agree.”

“And we certainly  _cannot_ shag in my office, on my couch, even if you have been gone for weeks and nearly died.” Q gripped the shirt tighter, budged closer on the couch so his thigh rested against Bonds hip. “Do you understand?”

“Very well.” Bond was starting to smile. “And what about once we are… offline?”

“Well.” Q bumped their noses lightly, sounding a little nervous. “I would love for you to throw me down somewhere on a bed and wreck me, isn’t that what you promised?”

Bond lifted his head just enough to touch the barest kiss to Q lips, nipping a little bite onto a gorgeous bottom lip, his hand sliding from Q’s neck down his back to bring him closer until their chests touched, then closer still until Q was nearly lying on top of him.

“Bond–!” Qs voice pitched in alarm, and Bond nodded, their mouths still brushing, not quite kissing, just sharing air.

“I know.  _Boundaries_. Your virtue is safe with me.” another barely there kiss, strong fingers sliding under the cardigan and button up to touch smooth skin. “Perfectly, entirely safe.”

“You’re practically a menace, Bond.” Q’s breath hitched as fingers traveled lower, dipping under his waistband. “A bloody menace. Let me go so I can do my work.”

“I’m not holding you, Quartermaster.” Bond sounded impossibly smug and Q let go of him with a muttered curse, pushing off of Bonds chest to run a hand through his hair and smooth his own shirt down.

“Right of course not.” Q took a deep breath. “Well I suppose the boundary issue should start now so–” he stood and backed away so Bond could stand as well, watching the agent re-adjust the sling around his arm. “Is your arm alright?”  

“Q.”

“I don’t suppose you brought any of your equipment back with you but I suppose I won’t yell at you this time.”

“ _Q_.”

“I do love the snow globe, but I think I am running out of room, so maybe you should buy me a display case for my next gift.”

“Q!”

“Yes, 007?” Q blinked up at him, just now realizing the man was standing only a few inches from him, and stumbled back a few steps as Bond advanced on him, crowding him up against the wall. “Bond, what are you—”

“Stop talking, darling.” Bond ran a thumb over Q’s lips and then covered them with his own in a slow, searing kiss that had the Quartermaster grabbing at the wall and then at the agents waist to urge him closer.

“Boundaries, Quartermaster.” he murmured, and left another sweet kiss on him before pulling away. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“God you’re a  _bastard_!” Q’s jaw dropped as Bond laughed and backed away. “An absolute tosser! Bloody wanker, I can’t even–”

“Terrible language from such a sweet mouth.” Bond blew him a kiss, and then tapped at his ear. “I’ll talk to you via comms, darling.”

*********************

*********************

“007, there will be a car waiting to pick you up from the Dallas-Ft Worth airport. Last name, Smith. Universal Exports. All the usual accommodations. Do check in once you have landed.”

Silence on the comms.

“Bond, please acknowledge so I am at least aware the equipment is working.”

“ _Everything is working marvelously, thank you_.”

“…Thank you.”

~~~~~~~

It was a full twelve hours before Bond spoke again. “ _I have landed at the airport, going to meet my man now_.”

“Perfect. Thank you 007. I am here if you need me, otherwise I’ll only bother you with the occasional instruction. Good luck.”

“ _Thank you, Q_.”

Taking a sip of his tea, Q realized it was the first time in their entire time of working together that a conversation had gone the way it was supposed to- professional and to the point, without sarcasm or innuendos or either one of them insulting the others.

 _God_ it was boring.

*****************

*****************

“Bond I need you to take this next left coming up immediately after the intersection.” Q said quickly. “The harbor is dead ahead, I am begging you not to simply jump the car onto the boat, for the love of  _God_ please just run you can certainly catch it in time.”

 _“Thank you, Q_.” Bond replied calmly and to everyone’s complete surprise, he did exactly that, the car skidding to a halt just at the edge of the pier, Bond jumping out of it and throwing himself into the air, catching the edge of the rapidly escaping yacht, and scrambling aboard.

“Oh thank god.” Q breathed and a couple of his assistants cheered. “Lovely, 007. Let’s find the Prime Minister, shall we?”

~~~

Of course Bond found the Prime Minister, whole and unharmed and received a new medal to add to the dozens he already had. He stood stiffly at the ceremony and made it through the entire thing without breaking protocol or saying anything that could be even slightly taken as inappropriate.

Q begged off early, not lying when he mentioned the paperwork that had to be done, and sat alone in his office for the rest of the evening.

“Sir?’

“Yes, Tessa.” He said without looking up. “You can go home, I am sure I can muddle my way through this mess alone.”

“Oh, I just wanted to say–” the beautiful woman hesitated, and Q blinked at her. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about you and 007.”

“What about myself and 007?” Q asked in confusion.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a few of us in Q Branch noticed how happy he made you. A shame you broke up, but 007 is something of a lecher, you know? Always looking for a quick shag. You probably saved yourself the heartache there.”

“007 and I were never together.” Q shook his head. “But thank you for your concern. Good night.”

“Good night sir.”

She shut the door quietly and Q pulled his phone out his pocket.

**Q–Thanks to you suddenly deciding to behave the way an agent should, Q Branch is convinced we have broken up, and Tessa came to give her condolences.**

**B– She really is a doll, I’ll be sure to send her flowers.**

**Q– She was quick to tell me that you are a lecher, that you are only looking for a quick shag and that I saved myself some heartbreak by getting rid of you.**

**B– She is correct on all counts. I am in fact looking for a quick shag, and if you would just be a love and drop this irritating celibacy act then we can get right to it.**

**Q–If you weren’t such a lecher, perhaps I would drop my celibacy act.**

**B– I’m afraid we are at an impasse then.**

**Q–What a shame.**

**B– I miss you.**

**Q– Sorry, what was that?**

**B– I miss you.**

**Q–**

**Q–**

**Q–I miss you too. Come home safe, 007.**

**Q– James.**

**Q– Come home safe, James.**

****************

****************

“Your target for the night, 007.” Q zoomed in on the cameras in the hotel lobby. “My that shade of red hair is particularly shocking, isn’t it? Her name is Kathleen–”

“ _Yes, thank you. I read the file you provided. I’ll be logging off for the night, Q. Expect to hear from me in the morning_.”

“Logging off for the night?” Q touched his earpiece. “007? Bond?  _Why_ are you logging off already?”

Eyes back on the screen as Bond approached the woman, and the comms might have been off, but Q could very well imagine what Bond was saying as he spent the evening with her, teasing and flirting and touching– god the  _touching_ was the worst to watch.

Bond bought her a drink, the fifth of the night, before leaning in and whispering something that had the woman blushing, curling her fingers in his shirt and tugging him closer.

As they walked to the elevator, Bond let his hand rest on the swell of her ass, and she made a show of pulling on his belt, laughing when he batted her hand away playfully.

In the elevator Bond pushed her into a wall, hiking her leg up around his waist and kissing her like his life depended on it.

She started undoing the side zip of her dress teasingly as they headed up the hall to her room, and Bond was working on his tie, and they stumbled through her door in a mix of arms and legs and heated kisses.

Once the door shut, Q didn’t have any means of surveillance, and he didn’t know whether to curse or be thankful.

It ended up being cursing, of course, because  _Bond_ was involved, and Q sat in front of the screens until the sun rose, waiting for the agent to leave the room.

He didn’t make another appearance until morning, his shirt still mostly unbuttoned, his hair tousled and a lazy smile on his face. The woman was still draped over him in nothing but a short robe, dragging long nails down his jaw to coax him in for longer and longer kisses.

Bond finally broke away, called something to her as he went, and once the elevator doors slid shut, blocking him from view, he tapped on his earpiece.

“ _Q. Please set up a rendezvous for myself and a local agent, I managed to track down the answers we need_.”

“Yes of course, 007.”

“ _Then a plane ticket, if you wouldn’t mind. Now that I’m finished I’d much rather be home._ ”

“Right away, 007.”

On screen, Bond looked up at the elevator camera and took an empty packet from his pocket, crinkling it in an obvious manner and throwing it in the corner before shaking his head emphatically and straightening his tie.

Q tried to hide his smile.

**B– Clever boy, tell me you know what I was saying**

**Q– Thank you for letting me know.**

**B– Were you worried?**

**Q– No. But you stayed all night. You don’t usually stay all night.**

**B– The bed was extraordinarily comfortable and I was exhausted. Nothing more than that.**

**Q– Very well.**

**B– I miss you.**

**Q– I miss you as well, James. Come home safe.**

*********************

*********************

Bond returned all of his gear with nothing any worse for the wear, depositing it neatly on the table and for once in his life signing the form that said he had returned it.

“Thank you.” Q murmured and Bond nodded shortly before leaving just as fast as he’d appeared.

Q did the review of the operation alone in his office, smiling at the new snowglobe, his feet firmly tucked into his favorite pink slippers, sipping at his amazing tea, and snacking on the chocolate– the  _coconut free_  chocolate– that Bond had left on his desk.

A quiet knock at his door and Bond let himself in, crossing the room in a few steps to thread his fingers into Q’s thick hair and tilt his head up to lay a firm kiss across his lips.

“I missed you.” the agent’s voice was rough and Q shivered, but before he could reply at all, Bond had kissed his nose and let himself back out.

*********************

*********************

“I wondered if you would do me a favor?” Bond asked and Q sat up quickly, rubbing his face to try and hide that he had been dozing at his desk.

“Of course, 007. What is it? Welcome home, by the way, how was Madrid?”

“I hardly looked up from the op long enough to notice.” Bond put his phone down on the desk. “I’m afraid I took her for a swim, and she isn’t working as well now. I didn’t want you to have to get me a new one, perhaps you could take a look at it for me before I leave tonight.”

“You’re leaving already?” Q frowned. “Bond you just barely returned, why are you leaving again?”

“The world needs saved, Q.” Bond said mildly. “The phone, if you would, otherwise I can get another from one of your assistants.”

“No, I should be able to fix it. Um, what time tonight?”

“By supper, would be best. Thank you.” Bond turned on his heel and left and Q stared down at the phone and then at the agents retreating back.

“Um– you’re welcome.”

**Q– Is everything alright?**

**B– Just in a hurry, darling, are you alright?**

**Q– You didn’t kiss me.**

**Q– Not that you have to.**

**Q– Nevermind.**

**B– I’ll make it up to you when I come back for my phone.**

***********************

***********************

There were flowers scattered across his desk, beautiful lilies in a vibrant pink with a heady scent and Bond set Q right in the middle of them, wrapping both arms around his waist and kissing him hard, tongue sliding between Q’s lips, licking and tasting through every corner of his mouth until the Quartermaster was panting and arching to get closer, hooking a long leg around Bonds hips and urging him close, urging him down, pushing paperwork out of the way until he was lying flat on the desk.

“Don’t stop.” he gasped. “James,  _don’t stop_.”

“Boundaries, love. Offline only, and all that.” Bond dragged in a deep breath. “I have to go. What would you like as your present this time?”

Q grabbed his tie and yanked him back down for a long kiss. “Just you.”

*********************

**Q– Correction. You _and_ a snow globe.**

**B– High maintenance git**

**Q– Come home safe James**

**B– I miss you already darling.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonds meets John Watson and the Holmes Brothers and is not impressed.

“James.” Eve smiled up at him and turned her cheek for a kiss. “How are you? Are you heading off on holiday?” 

“Holiday.” Bond grimaced. “Forced rest and relaxation.” he held the door to Q Branch open for her. “I am here to surrender my gear and then I am off.” 

“Hullo, Q.” She waved and Q looked up from his computers, green gaze flicking over where Bond’s arm rested around her waist. “Aren't you up for holiday soon as well?”

“God forbid.” Q said dryly. “As if Q Branch would survive without me. All of MI6 would come to a halt without me at the computers.” 

“So modest this one.” Eve elbowed Bond lightly. “Where are you going, then?” 

“If I told you where to find me, it wouldn't be holiday, would it?” Bond said mildly, emptying his pockets of all Q Branch issued tech and scattering it about on the table. “But if you must know, there is a hunting lodge in Dartmoor I enjoy. Misty mornings, quiet days, cold nights, all of that.” 

“Creepy moors, tales of monsters, hardly any cell service.” Eve added, ticking it off on her fingers. “Sounds lovely.” 

“Indeed.” Bond smiled faintly. “There are so few places to disconnect and be  _ offline  _ these days--” Q perked up a little and Bonds smile grew. “--it will be nice to have ten days to myself I suppose.”

“You mean yourself and whichever barmaid you convince to share your bed.” Eve rolled her eyes and Bond feigned a hurt look. 

“Eve. I can assure you my taste runs far more sophisticated than bar maids.” 

She snorted, apparently unconvinced and Bond signed the form for the last of his tech. “That's it, then. Don't let the world burn down while I'm gone. I will see you in a few weeks.” 

“Bye James!”

“Safe travels, 007.” 

************************

**Q-- Dartmoor area has notoriously terrible cell service, but will you at least let me know when you arrive?**

**B-- Of course. I wish we had had time for a kiss goodbye**

**Q-- As long as you bring me a present, I'm sure I'll have a kiss waiting for you when you return.**

**B-- Q, darling, do you only kiss me because I bring you trinkets?**

**Q-- Yes**

**B-- I am hurt and horrified.**

**Q-- You are neither of those things**

**B-- I could be.**

**Q-- You could be, but you aren't.**

**Q-- Do hurry back, James. I believe I already miss you.**   
  


**********************

**********************

Bond took himself to Dartmoor that very afternoon, to a quiet lodge that boasted the best food in the area, and plenty of solitude, as well as the chance to hunt a little and all of that was exactly what he wanted. If he had to be relaxing, this was a good place to do it.

There was a small pub he could drink at every night, moors to walk in the morning, and a large sitting room with a huge fireplace where he could read as the day went on. There was forced radio silence between he and Q Branch, and there wasn't good enough cell service to text regularly with Q, so after two or three days Bond was missing his favorite genius quite a bit, enough to consider driving out of the area just to have a chat, or to risk talking via comms. 

But he forced the feelings aside and went down to the pub for his usual pint, ready for some relaxation and another quiet, cold night, which in all actuality sounded wonderful. 

Of course, Bond had the sort of luck that all agents did, and quiet evenings were never quiet for long, so when someone new stepped into the pub and headed right for him, Bond knew his night was most likely ruined. 

“Can I help you?” He asked the man cooly, and really rather rudely, because he was fairly certain the scowl on his face had served as a  _ fuck off  _ sign so no one would bother him. The pub might have been peaceful but Bonds thoughts tonight couldn't seem to stay off of Q and that was driving him crazy, so he  _ really  _ couldn't believe the man had just sat down like he was welcome. 

“Why don’t you just–” The stranger tapped his own ear, indicating Bonds earpiece, and Bond raised his eyebrow, but turned off his comm anyway. He didn't even know why he was wearing it, bloody habit was all, it was muted on his end and Q wasn't going to say anything unless there was an emergency so there wasn't any point. But he turned it off anyway, going so far as to remove it from his ear and set it on the table. 

“That’s better, thank you.” The man smiled cheerfully. “Now listen here–You have just a few minutes before the biggest prick in the British government descends on you on some nosy self righteous mission that I couldn’t talk him out of. Oh, and he will be accompanied by a gorgeous twat in a ridiculous coat who will probably glare at you before announcing something rude, but don’t take it personally, he’s like that with everyone, yeah?” 

“Why will these gentlemen be invading my peace and quiet?” Bond queried. “And why should I stick around and listen?” 

“You’ll stick around because the older one has this entire town locked down and access to every camera in the area so if you run he might just have you killed and skip the conversation all together.” 

“And?” Bond was unimpressed, and the man looked him over with renewed interest. 

“ _ And  _ it would help your present situation to listen to what he has to say. Not worried at all, are you? Brave of you.” 

“Who are you?” Bond cocked his head. “And what do you know about my present situation?” 

“Doctor John Watson, or Captain John Watson, if you prefer. And I know more than you think, because I share a flat with the one in the coat, and he isn’t near as subtle as he thinks he is when planning devious schemes.” 

“And you came to warn me, Dr. Watson? Why’s that?” Bond drummed his fingers irritably on the table top. 

“Because I’ve been at the receiving end of one of these exact talks.” Watson leaned across the table. “It isn’t fun, but for the love of god don’t mouth off or else–” he shut up abruptly when the door to the pub swung open and two men entered, both tall, one wearing the before-promised ridiculous coat and the other carrying an umbrella. 

“You live with the gorgeous one, hm?” Bond said softly, and the doctor grimaced. 

“Been trying to shag him for a year now. Bloody git wouldn’t notice if I threw myself at him naked and covered in oil.

“Shame, that.” Bond let his eyes trail over the John’s body critically, his gaze warming appreciatively and the man wet his lips before grinning. “It would seem he has no idea what he is missing.” 

“Cheers, mate. Always nice to be appreciated.” 

“Indeed.” Bond started to smile. “So if you  _ aren't  _ in fact shagging him then--” 

“Commander Bond.” Their moment was broken by the man with the umbrella, who inserted himself into their conversation with the kind of ease that came with years of having his every order obeyed without question. “Do you know who I am?” 

“No.” Bond said shortly, and the other one with the long coat narrowed astonishingly colored eyes in his direction, obviously studying everything about him. Bond returned the look boldly, letting every bit of his disdain show in his face. “Should I?” 

“Commander Bond, my name is Mycroft Holmes.” The man stamped his umbrella on the floor once for emphasis. “And you are going to  _ stop  _ fucking around with my little brother.” 

“Sorry, what?’ Bond sent John a quick look. “Your little brother, was it?” 

“He didn't know.” The one in the coat announced. “Look at him. He has no idea.” 

“Mm. That doesn't make this any better for him, I'm afraid.” Mycroft muttered and across the table John rolled his eyes, obviously having seen the brothers together enough to be annoyed by their manners.

“You know him as Q.” Mycroft said, and suddenly he had every bit of Bonds attention. “You are going to stop playing this ridiculous game with him, or I will bring the entire heel of the British government down upon your head and crush you like a bug, do I make myself perfectly clear?” 

Bond took a moment, took a long drink and looked the men over. “Your little brother, is he?” 

“You are acting dumber than you really are.” the one in the coat leaned too close into Bonds space. “Why is that?” 

“Sherlock, don't.” John shook his head. “Don't start that. You don't need to do that.” 

“Sherlock.” Bond repeated. “Mycroft and  _ Sherlock _ ? Is Q’s real name something as ridiculous?”

“At this rate you will never know.” Sherlock had a baritone that was little more than a rumble and Bond realized with a start that if the man wasn't such a prick, he’d be attracted to him. 

_ Unfortunately _ , Sherlock realized it too. 

“You are attracted to me.” he stated, a little overly loud. “But not because of  _ me _ , because I resemble Q with dark hair and greenish eyes. Also our frames are similar and an Alpha male type like you prefers a man that nearly feels like a woman in your grasp. Struggling with our bisexuality are you?” he tapped his chin. “No, no not struggling. Enjoying it, but actively avoiding women because your heart was broken by a dark haired woman some time ago, which makes it interesting that you still cling to brunettes, instead of chasing after blondes in an effort to avoid the memories. Your right shoulder is injured, an old one, I would think because it only seems to  hinder your movement when you are unsure of something, like now, even though it was perfectly steady when you took your earpiece out of your ear a few moments ago.”

“You are put off by Mycroft which is understandable, but not by me, again drawing on the familial resemblance, but I can assure you, Commander Bond, that I am in no way like my brother other than the brilliance that we all have in spades. You should be much more worried what a man like myself can do to you, since Mycroft can posture and  _ bitch  _ all he wants but as a 00 agent, you have the government's protection from him but  _ not _ .  _ from _ .  _ me _ . And I can assure you, Agent, that if I in any way think you are sniffing after my brother, I will in fact destroy you and leave you in some desolate alley for Scotland Yard to find you and I promise you I have seen my fair share of desolate alleys, so believe me when I say I can put you in the worst one in England.” 

Bond sent a stupefied glance towards John, who looked about six shades of annoyed with the whole business, then back at Sherlock who was waiting with a triumphant smirk, obviously impatient for Bond to ask how the hell he had known so much. 

Bond wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. 

“I  _ am  _ attracted to you.” he began. “Or at least I  _ was  _ until you opened your mouth. Has anyone told you that you resemble a fishwife, harping on like that? I do enjoy Q’s slimmer build but not for the reason you think, simply because I enjoy how he fits together with me. Trust me, I prefer my men to be--” a meaningful glance towards John. “--  _ men _ , preferably soldiers, because no one shags quite like a soldier on leave. My heart was broken by a brunette haired bitch, but the only way you would know  _ that  _ is if Q told you, because there isn't a single brunette girl in this place for you to have noticed me staring at or avoiding at all.” 

“My injury is from some time ago, but was re-injured just this last week. I'm put off by Mycroft because of that ridiculous umbrella, and by you because you think you know everything when in fact you miss the most obvious things. I have no doubt that you know many terrible alleys, the way your eyes are darting about and you are licking your lips would look like anxiety or perhaps watchfulness, but on you they are obvious signs of a drug user. Heroin, perhaps, since you are much too high maintenance for a simple bump of coke and entirely too posh to try something as dirty as meth.”

“You see, Holmes and Holmes, I have spent my entire life training to do  _ exactly  _ what it is you two do, whether it's using my position in MI6 to threaten people, or trying to scare them with observations that they consider amazing. The fact is, neither one of you intimidate me, but I will apologize in advance for everything of me you will have to hear about from Q. It is terrible annoying to listen to your sibling wax poetic about a lover, isn't it?” 

Sherlocks mouth actually fell open in surprise, and Mycroft glared daggers at him, but across the table, John burst out laughing. “Bloody brilliant. You’ve managed to shut them both up at the same time! I'll buy you a drink for that!”

“I'll accept, thank you.” Bond smiled in satisfaction, completely ignoring the brothers fuming above him. “I can't imagine this will happen ever again in these two’s company, so I suppose we should celebrate.” 

“It’ll  _ never  _ happen again, believe me.” John grinned, and waved the waitress over for a round. 

Mycroft gathered his dignity and left without another word, but Sherlock stared between the two of them for a moment, looking both mystified and concerned. “John, you are staying?” 

“Yep.” John sent Bond a wink. “Think I'll stay and have a drink or two.” 

Bond lifted his glass. “Stay as long as you want.”

***********************

***********************

Johns phone buzzed for the eighteenth time in the last hour, and he pulled it from his pocket with a sigh. “Well, Sherlock is working himself into something of a panic. I suppose I should get back to the room before he starts causing damage.” 

“High maintenance, much?” Bond drained the last of his beer. “Good luck with that one.”

“Good luck with yours.” John returned. “Even though I suppose Q is the easiest of the bunch. Mycroft is wound so tight I think he might actually snap, and Sherlock is completely neurotic, nearly mad, and obsessing over something different every single week.” 

“And you want to shag him anyway?” 

“You saw him. Bloody gorgeous man.” John shrugged, licked his lips. “Plus, there is something...else. Something beneath that frightening intelligence and lack of manners that is fragile and breakable and I-- I want to be the one to make sure he doesn't fall to pieces, yeah?”

“Which is why you have been drinking with me for hours instead of going to see him?” Bond’s eyes sparked good naturedly and John grinned right back at him. 

“It does him some good to remember that people other than him find me interesting.” 

“Hm.” Bond pushed his glass away. “Well I'd like to keep you, since you are  _ very  _ interesting, but I won't. Go tend to your genius.” 

“I could say the same for you, if yours was here.” John stood when Bond did, grabbing his coat and scarf. “And as much as I'd like a go at you, I wouldn't want to take you from Q, or have the man angry with me. He scares me nearly as much as the others with all he can do on his computers.” 

“Cheers.” Bond said lightly. “If either of us end up unattached at some point, we should revisit this moment, hm?” 

Johns eyes lit in interest, and before they parted ways in the street, he scribbled down his number and shoved it Bonds pocket. “Even if all you want to do is get together and bitch about our respective Holmes’.” and Bond laughed out loud before heading down the street towards his rooms. 

Halfway there he tapped his earpiece on. “Q?” 

“ _ Bond? Are you alright _ ?” Q answered immediately. “You shouldn't be contacting Q Branch unless it is an emergency. What’s going on?” 

Bond smiled at hearing his voice. “Everything is fine. I just had a very interesting conversation with one Dr. John Watson.” 

“ _ Dr John Watson-- oh no. No no no _ .” 

“And  _ then  _ I had an  _ equally  _ interesting conversation with a tall man with an umbrella, and another one in a long coat with a penchant for saying whatever the hell he wants whenever the mood strikes.” 

“ _ Oh bloody hell _ .” Q sounded completely horrified. “ _ Bond, I promise I had no idea they would-- I can't even begin to-- honestly what the fuck were they--- _ ”

“It's fine.” Bond cut in. “We had a pleasant chat and they went on their way. “

“I _ highly doubt it was pleasant.” _

“Either way, it was all fine.” Bond opened the door to his rooms. “The good doctor and I had a lovely visit after the other two left.” 

“ _ Oh _ ?” Q’s voice was guarded, perhaps a little jealous, which Bond found very surprising. “ _ And what did you and Watson talk about that was so lovely _ ?” 

“Seems as if we both care a frightening amount for dark haired geniuses with wicked tongues and beautiful eyes. However  _ he  _ has his genius here with him, while I am here alone. It's a shame, really.” 

“ _...A frightening amount, is it _ ?” Q cleared his throat. “ _ Are you enjoying your time offline, 007 _ ?  _ Even if it is alone?” _

“I'd enjoy it more with  _ company _ , Quartermaster.” 

“. _..I see _ .” 

“Do you?” 

“ _ I am beginning to _ .” 

“Well, when you see the entire picture, give us a ring.” 

“ _ I...will _ .  _ Good night, 007 _ .” 

“Quartermaster.” 

*********************

*********************

When the door to Bond’s room creaked open almost five hours later, the agent didn't say a word, just propped himself up on his elbow and waited in the dark for the shadowy figure to come all the way inside.

Then he flung the covers back on the bed and patted the mattress loudly, and when the slim body lay down hesitantly, he tugged them closer, turning until they were spooning and he could bury his face in the riot of dark curls. 

“Good night, James.” Q whispered and Bond pressed a tiny kiss to the back of his neck. 

“Good night, Quartermaster.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Id love to hear your guys favorite part from this chapter, whichever scene out of all the snippets from their day you like the most!

Bond woke just as the sun started to rise, and managed to panic only for a second at the sight of the body next to him before remembering Q creeping into his bed last night.

_ Q _ .

Clever boy had figured out exactly what Bond wanted and had driven for hours just to sleep next to him. It was wonderful, really, and Bond was touched by the gesture, by the Quartermasters attempt to give them some time together away from Six and ops and comms and all that. 

Offline, isn't that what Q called it?

“007.” Q’s voice was slow and sleepy. “Budge off, would you? Your gun is digging into my hip.”

“Quartermaster.” Bond slipped his arm around Q’s waist and tugged him closer, fitting their bodies together as well as he could with their pajamas in the way. “You know  _ damn well _ that’s not my gun.”

“Oh thank goodness.” Q yawned and scooted back even more, and Bond groaned softly when that perfect arse snugged up against the hard line of his cock. “If that  _ was  _ your gun I was going to ask when you upgraded the Walther for something bigger.”

“You thought I had a gun and you were worried about the  _ size  _ of it?” Bond rested his lips over Q’s pulse, laying a soft kiss there before nuzzling up towards his ear.

“You’re right.” Q tilted his head to give Bond better access, a shiver running through him at the rasp of morning stubble against his skin. “I should be  _ much  _ more concerned about it going off prematurely.”

“Christ, Q.” Bond laughed out loud and rolled over onto his back, staring up at the dark ceiling. “Did you drive all this way to criticize my firing technique?” 

“I suppose I would require a demonstration before criticizing or approving either way.” Q shifted to put his head on Bonds chest, and hid his smile when the agent wrapped both arms around him and held him close. “Otherwise, how else would I make a completely informed decision?”

“How else, indeed?” A contented sigh from Bond. “What do you want to do today?”

“What do I want to-- are you serious?” Q lifted his head, flexing his hips to rub his own erection against Bonds thigh. “Are you  _ serious _ ?” 

“There is a darling bookstore just down the way.” Bond continued as if Q hadn't said anything. “A fireplace and all that, I think you’d enjoy it. Something of a market place. We could take a walk through the moors, it's lovely, especially in the evenings.” 

“You want to spend the day together?” Q questioned. “ _ All _ day?” 

“Are you due back in London?”

“Not immediately.” Q shrugged, squinting in the early morning light to see Bonds face. “You want to simply spend the day together?” 

“I'd like to.” Bond gazed back at him steadily. “If that’s alright?” 

“Yes.” Q nodded slowly, a pleased smile crossing his face. “I think I would love that."

************************

“How long are you here for?” Q asked over morning tea and breakfast. “M said your holiday was ten days, but are you staying longer?” 

“Do I strike you as the type to stay on a forced holiday one moment longer then I have to?” Bond answered, taking a bite from his toast and a sip of coffee. “I will be back in London the moment I am allowed.” 

“I see.” 

“And how long are  _ you  _ staying, Quartermaster?” Bond raised an eyebrow. “Is this a forced holiday as well, or did you shirk your duties and steal away from your post in order to have a sordid liaison on the moors with a double-oh?” 

“The latter, actually.” Q glanced out the window at the hills in the distance. “So if the sordidness could start soon---”

“Minx.” Bond smothered a grin behind another bite of toast. “Patience is a virtue, isn't that what they say.” 

“Perhaps. But it's only a virtue that old dogs have.” 

*********************

“That is an entirely ridiculous scarf.” Bond shook his head. “I'm not buying you that.” 

“It's  _ my  _ present.” Q argued, turning back and forth in front of the mirror, admiring the rich green scarf. “I should very well get to pick it out, don't you agree?” 

“I was under the impression that I was supposed to pick out your gifts, and you were supposed to swoon and be grateful.” 

“I am not the type to swoon, 007.” Q reached for a scarf in a pale blue and wound it around his neck. 

“No? I could have sworn you nearly fainted when I bought Esme and Emerson collars.” Bond pointed out. “I prefer the pale blue.” 

“You prefer the blue because it's the same color as your eyes.” Q scoffed. “And I was nowhere near fainting, I was simply pleased.” 

“What about the tea?” 

“I was very pleased with the tea, but still not quite enough to make me swoon.” Q put both scarves down and reached for a third, this one a chocolate brown that made his pale skin look creamy and touchable and soft, his green eyes wonderfully warm and bright. 

“That one.” Bond nodded quickly. “That one will be your present. You can have the others as well, but I like this one.” 

“I like it as well.” Q ripped the tag off but left the scarf on, running his fingers over it. “Shall we go find me a snowglobe, then?” 

“Absolutely not. Snowglobes are bought at my discretion only, you will have to wait  _ patiently  _ for one to appear on your desk.” 

Q rolled his eyes. “Patiently, 007? We both know that will not happen.” He went to pass by the agent, on his way to another part of the store, but Bond reached out and grabbed the end of the scarf, winding it over his hand and tugging at it until Q moved up between his knees, bending until their noses nearly touched. 

“I want you to call me James.” Bond said quietly, seriously, his eyes tracing over Q’s face, landing on his lips. “Call me James.” 

“ _ James _ .” Q breathed and Bond pulled on the scarf again, closing the last inch or so between them and covering Q’s mouth in a slow kiss, tongue sliding just lightly through the seam of Q’s lips to barely taste him before pulling away. “Oh my.” 

“Careful, darling.” Bond brushed his lips over Q’s again. “Don't swoon.” 

*********************

Lunch was shepherd's pie, bubbling hot with a perfect crust and they were silent together nearly the entire meal, Q pushing the beef onto Bond’s plate and taking large spoonfuls of vegetables in return. 

“No coconut and no meat?” Bond asked, spearing one of the pieces Q had given him. “What else don't you eat?” 

“It's more red meat than anything.” Q shrugged. “I am fine with chicken, and I adore fish.” 

“Why no red meat, then?” 

“Because I am not a Neanderthal.” Q replied primly. “And red meat is not essential to my diet.” 

“Of course.” Bond chuckled. “I'll keep that in mind for dinner.” 

“See that you do.” Q adjusted his scarf. “What are you allergic to? No, nevermind, I know the answer to that. Tell me something that isn't in your file. Something interesting.” 

Bond pushed his plate away and watched Q for a long minute, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes as he thought about what he wanted to say. Finally he asked, “Why?” 

“Why are you spending the day with me?” Q returned evenly, pushing a piece of crust through the broth that had spilled onto his plate. “I would think both of our questions have the same answer. At least--” he cleared his throat, a vulnerable look in his eye for the first time all day. “At least, I hope they do. I hope they both have the same answer.” 

Bond drummed out a beat on the table, and then slid his hand across the surface, motioning coaxingly until Q took it, lacing their fingers together. 

“You think I have been celibate because of Vesper.” he stated and Q nodded carefully. “It's not because of Vesper. Well, it  _ is _ , but not for the reason you think.” 

“And what do I think?” 

“You think she ruined me, that I am so shattered by her breaking my heart that I am emotionally and perhaps even physically compromised. That I cannot do my job any longer, because I see Vespers face in every beautiful woman. That's also--” Bond shook his head when Q started to argue. “--that's also why you think I have an interest in  _ you _ , because women have been ruined for me, so I am trying my hand at seducing men, but that isn't it at all.” 

“The thing about betrayal is that it ruins every memory you have of that person. It taints every happy moments, makes you second guess every smile, every sweet thing they ever said to you.” Bond said flatly. “You think I'm not over Vesper, but I am. I have been for ages. She died and that was…” he took a deep breath. “That was it, for me. Finding out she had been using me the entire time, that perhaps she had loved me, but in the end she had loved someone more…that was enough to let me cut the ties completely.” 

“So you are celibate---” Q prompted. 

“I am celibate because now that I know what it feels like to be loved and left for a mission, for some greater calling, for any reason at all, and honestly--” Bond cleared his throat. “I suppose I don't want to do that anymore. I am celibate because Vesper opened my eyes to what I have done to countless women... and some men.” he smiled a little. “Some were one night stands, others were weeks and months together while I was working to take down someone in their family, or a friend, or even their other lover. They were a means to an end, and I never once looked back, but Vesper  _ made  _ me look back and reevaluate what I have done.” 

“You are celibate so you don't break someone’s heart.” Q said slowly. “Because when the seduction moves past words and easy touches, it could become something real?” 

“That is entirely correct.” 

“And you are so adverse to that, that you would rather drug them and leave them slightly confused as to what happened the night before, than sleep with them and take the chance of them developing feelings that you have no desire to return.” 

“Also, entirely correct.”

“So--” Q swallowed jerkily. “So you and I--this morning? You are completely adverse to that sort of thing with me? Is  _ that  _ entirely correct?” 

“No.” Bond disagreed. “That is entirely  _ incorrect _ . You are someone—  _ this _ is something that makes me disregard everything negative I think about relationships.”

“Oh.” Q smiled, and Bond smiled back.

***********************

“So your brothers?” Bond turned a page in his book. “Is everyone in your family like that?” 

“Oh god no.” Q shook his head, nose buried in his own book as they sat close to the fire in the sitting room of their hotel. “Mummy is a genius in her own right, but perfectly well adjusted and impossibly lovely. And our dad is… well I think he is actually quite average, but average to our family might very well be genius in someone else’s.” 

“So what happened to your brothers?” 

“Well, Mycroft is…” Q thought for a moment. “Mycroft uses his brilliance to rule the world, and keeps himself and his emotions locked down so they don't overwhelm him. Out of all of us, I do think he is the most sensitive, but you would never know it. “

“And the umbrella?” 

“I think it's something of a security blanket.” Q put his book down and crossed over to sit next to Bond on the loveseat, chewing at the inside of his cheek before placing a hesitant hand on Bonds thigh. 

“Hm.” Bond didn't look up, but he lay his hand over Q’s, threading their fingers together. “And the obnoxious one?” 

“Sherlock.” Q sighed. “He uses his brilliance to disrupt the world. He doesn't have the self control that Mycroft has so he is overwhelmed very easily and lashes out against it with his words and tries to counteract it with his addictions.” 

“Drugs?” 

“No. Well, yes, but not only that. He has such an addictive personality that nearly anything can become a vice. If it's not heroin, it's working cases for Scotland Yard, and when that gets boring he conducts ridiculous experiments, or spends days doing equations. He is frightening with his intensity, and the one that Mummy worries about the most.” 

“How does the good doctor put up with him?” 

“I'm sure wanting to shag his brains out helps.” Q said dryly. “Beyond that, I think Dr Watson misses the excitement of war and since Sherlock is practically a war all by himself, I suppose he feels needed.” 

“I seem to have fallen for the easiest brother then.  Because you are perfectly well adjusted, aren't you Q?” Bond finally turned and smiled at him. “Using that lovely brain of yours for Queen and Country with no odd security blankets or addictions?” 

“I don't know.” Q smirked, and looked down at their fingers. “I feel as if I might start itching if I don't get my hands on a computer soon.” 

“Lovely.” Bond sighed theatrically. “How would you feel about having supper with your brother and Dr. Watson tonight? John mentioned something about a case they are working nearby.” 

“You want to have supper with my brother?” Q asked blankly. “Honestly?” 

“It could be fun.” Bond shrugged. “I'm sure he has embarrassing stories about you I can use as blackmail later.” 

“You would blackmail me, James?” 

“In a heartbeat.” Bond leaned in to kiss him gently. “I need all the leverage I can have on you, since with just a few strokes of those clever fingers you can find out everything you could ever want to know about me.” 

“Oh my, James.” Q coughed to clear his throat. “I suppose, um--”

“I meant on the  _ computer _ , darling.” Bond went back to his book calmly. “What did you think I meant?” 

********************

********************

If John Watson called 007  _ James  _ one more time, Q might very well stab him. 

It wasn't that the doctor was doing anything wrong, no he had been perfectly polite all evening long, his usual charming self, keeping the conversation flowing when Sherlock refused to do much more than sit there glowering at Bond.

Honestly, Q didn't know how John put up with it, but _also_ _honestly_ if John called Bond _James_ just one more time---

“What do you think, darling?” Bond asked and Q startled, blinking up at him in confusion. 

“Sorry, what? I wasn't listening.” He said apologetically and across the table Sherlock rolled his eyes and muttered something about  _ they say I'm the rude one _ . 

“It's alright, Sherlock.” John said mildly. “I think I would be distracted if James’ hand was on my thigh as well.” 

Well  _ that  _ got Q’s attention, Sherlock’s too, and the detective looked at his flatmate with something like… jealousy? in his eyes, while Q looked down to see that Bond  _ did  _ in fact have a hand resting on his leg, rather north of the knee as well and he flushed when he realized how deep in his thoughts he had been. 

“John was asking if we wanted to go with them tomorrow. To visit a medical facility, was it?” 

“I'm not altogether sure.” John frowned. “Sherlock, it's a military installation correct? That apparently works on top secret genetic testing and that sort of thing. I'll admit I don't always listen to every word Sherlock says, but he has admitted to just talking whether I'm there or not, so I suppose it evens out.” 

“What do you think?” Bond raised his eyebrow in question and Q glanced at Sherlock, who was outright  _ glaring  _ at him, and shook his head. 

“No, I think not. It seems like something the Hardy Boys should do on their own, doesn't it?” 

John and Bond laughed about the Hardy Boys reference, and Sherlock only rolled his eyes again, but Q waited a little anxiously until Bond agreed with him, telling John that they wouldn't go along. 

John was disappointed, while Sherlock looked secretly pleased, and Bond promised they would get together soon, much to John’s delight. Q pressed at his hand lightly and Bond cleared his throat before leaning over and nuzzling into his neck, dotting a kiss behind his ear. 

“You have no reason to be jealous darling.” he whispered. “But keep being jealous because it's adorable.” 

“I hate you.” Q whispered right back. “And I might hate John because he likes you so much.” 

“Adorable.” Bond repeated and relaxed back into his own chair. 

Q held his hand a little tighter the rest of the dinner, and Bond just smiled about it. 

***********************

***********************

“You aren’t using me to get over Vesper.” Q stated, rather than asked as they walked the outskirts of the town, slipping in and out of the mist that always seemed to hang around the moors. “Or because you are afraid to get close to women again.” 

“No.”

“And you managed to talk my brothers down after they all but threatened you with some awful death if you didn't leave me alone.” 

“Yes.” 

“You have bought me twenty three snowglobes, going out of your way to stop into places you think I would like as well as brought me presents ranging from ludicrous to thoughtful and even sentimental at times.” 

“Yes.” 

“You told me over comms last night that you care a frightening amount for me.” 

“I did.” 

“James.” 

“Yes, Q?” 

“Would you take me to bed already?” 

“Of course, Quartermaster.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the love and encouragement on this fic, this is my first 00Q and I loved it so much!
> 
> PS-- Holla for some smutty smut between our boys lol

Looking back, perhaps their first time should have been different. Softer, slower, maybe less about the fucking and more about discovering each others bodies. How Bond reacted to Q’s touch and the way Q sighed every time his agent kissed him. How the Quartermaster arched his body into every roll of Bonds hips, or how Bond’s breath seemed to catch whenever Q called him James. 

Perhaps it would have been sweeter, a better story for later on, if they had taken their time and spent hours in bed mapping every inch of skin and memorizing every gasp and breathless sound each other made. 

Perhaps. 

But instead, Bond pinned Q up against a wall, and Q pushed back until Bond put a hand on his neck to keep him still while he outright  _ claimed  _ his mouth. 

Q ripped a perfectly good Oxford shirt open, scattering buttons as he did, and Bond had Q’s belt and pants off and flung halfway across the room the next minute. 

Q demanded Bond  _ hurry  _ and Bond explained that he hadn't brought supplies because he hadn't expected to be getting a leg over on anyone this week. Q thought that was quite frankly adorable, and overly sweet because even on holiday Bond didn't want to be with anyone but him, so he kissed Bond as hard as he could as a thank you.

Then pulled the lube and condoms from his coat pocket, because he  _ had  _ been planning on being shagged senseless while on holiday, thank you, so if Bond would just  _ hurry up please _ ?

There was a perfectly good bed right there, but Bond jerked Q right off his feet and up against the wall, directing long legs around his waist, a big hand firmly on Q’s perfectly pert arse to keep him steady, the other searching low for where Q was warm and tight. 

Lots of lube, entirely too much lube really, and Bond wasn't slow opening Q up, and Q wasn't shy about demanding  _ more  _ and  _ harder  _ and  _ Christ  _ 007 we’ve been waiting long enough, haven't we?

It was a quick thrust and a slow glide and Q smacked his head back against the wall hard enough to see stars when Bond finally bottomed out inside him, and he was almost uncomfortably full, but after a moment the burn lessened and he wasted no time nipping a terribly sharp bite onto Bonds neck and demanding the man  _ move _ . 

There would be finger shaped bruises on Q’s hips for days after and he would wince and scowl at Bond when he touched them, but for right now he was begging for more, curses and pleas tumbling from his lips and Bond took them all, swallowing them with heavy kisses, tonguing over Q’s pulse point, groaning when Q tugged at his hair, shifting minutely with each thrust until he hit a spot just there that made Q nearly bite through his lip trying to muffle a scream. 

“Don't wake the neighbors darling.” Bond teased breathlessly and Q swore at him, digging his fingers into Bonds shoulders and trying to situate himself exactly so Bond pushed over that scream inducing spot with every stroke and then he was crying out every time, green eyes snapping shut and mouth falling open because after all their teasing and innuendos and even out right filthy text messages, it was overwhelming to be right  _ here  _ with Bond, right  _ here  _ with his agent,  _ right here with the man he was sure he was falling in love with.  _

“What did you say?” Bond stilled, stopped so suddenly that Q was tempted to smack him for it. “What was that?” 

“I didn’t say anything.” Q denied instantly. “Unless it was for you to work harder at this because honestly 007 if you don't get me off right now---” 

Bond covered his mouth in a kiss, softer and sweeter than any of them had been up until now, lingering over Q’s lips and bumping their noses together. “I heard what you said.” he whispered. “But you can pretend you didn't say anything.” 

“Thank you.” Q whispered back. “Not quite ready for that.” 

“I know.” Bond kissed him again, slow and tender--

\--then snapped his hips forward and laughed because Q  _ shrieked  _ and when they kissed this time it was decidedly less tender and much more teeth and tongue and panting breaths and muttered curses and Q was suddenly much closer to being done than he thought he was, and he somehow managed to warn Bond in between kisses and hard thrusts and the way he was quickly spiraling out of control. 

Bond huffed something about  _ young  _ and  _ spots  _ and  _ done too quickly _ , but wrapped a hand around Q’s cock and stroked him steadily, speeding up when Q cried for more, tightening his grip and twisting just enough to make the beautiful brunette start to shake and then it was “bloody hell, Q, you’re going to finish me first aren't you? You are  _ incredible-- _ ” 

Apparently that was just the perfect amount of praise to send Q right over his edge, and Bond grit his teeth and forced himself still while Q came between them, over his hand and onto their stomachs, before collapsing limp against the wall, Bonds weight the only thing keeping him up. 

“ _ James _ .” he slurred and Bond realized that as much as he loved Q’s no nonsense, posh tone, this soft lazy voice after coming was his new favorite, and he wanted to hear it as much as he could. 

After he got to come himself, of course. 

“You’re alright?” he asked, needing to know the boffin was at least conscious and Q laughed quietly before looping both arms around Bonds neck and sliding their lips together. 

“Come on then.” Q murmured. “Your turn. Make a right mess of me.” 

Bond had a condom on, of course, so it wasn't necessarily a mess, but he was certainly a  _ wreck  _ when he finished. 

It didn't take much after Q had come, just a few hard thrusts, that lovely mouth whispering filthy things in his ear about  _ so full  _ and  _ wonderfully thick _ and  _ come inside me  _ and Bond was lost, groaning through his orgasm and wringing a soft cry from Q when he shoved himself deeper inside. 

Perhaps later they would think that they should have taken their time, but for right now, Bond laughed about having to carry a weak kneed Q to the bed, while Q snarked something about Bond shagging him against the wall like a cheap trick. 

They collapsed onto the pillows and Q lay back and coaxed Bond down against him, a silver blond head on his chest, over his heart, and he ran his fingers soothingly through Bonds hair as they tried to catch their breath together. 

There was always tomorrow to be slow together. They could make love as the sun rose, wash each others backs in the shower, eat breakfast together while staring into each others eyes… all of that. 

For right now, this was perfect. 

************************

************************

Q was barely awake as the sun rose, but when Bond asked, he went willingly over onto his stomach, letting Bond put a pillow under his hips and work him open slowly. 

He might have dozed off again honestly, as gentle as Bond was being, but the agent pressed his mouth to Q’s ear and asked if he could be inside him, and Q was instantly awake, reaching back for Bonds hand and urging him forward. 

This time  _ was  _ slow, with Bond’s hard body draped over Q’s leaner one, muscled arms caging Q in and keeping him warm, shallow strokes that kept him teetering just at the edge for what seemed like forever before they both finally came, and Bond buried his nose in Q’s neck and just breathed him in. 

A shower then, which wasn't near as easy as they thought it would be because showering with someone after years of showering alone was a complete pain in the ass. Bond tried to wash Q’s hair and ended up getting shampoo in those lovely green eyes, and Q started to wash his back but got so upset over the myriad of scars that Bond ended up turning back around and just holding him for a few minutes. 

Bond got out to get dressed first, because even though he was more than comfortable with nudity, he thought Q would enjoy a little privacy, so he slipped out of their room and downstairs to the breakfast area to see about tea and coffee. 

“James, darling?” Q called from the bathroom. “Could you bring me my-- James?” he stuck his head out the door when there was no answer, and frowned at the quiet room. “Never mind then, I'll get it myself.” 

He started to cross the room to get to his phone, fully expecting there to be a message from M, because even though he had used a few days of long over due holiday time to be here with Bond, he had in fact left without any notice and it would be understandable if M needed him back. 

No message though, which was a relief, because he was very much looking forward to another day in James’ company, and surprisingly enough there was even cell service, so he typed out a quick message to Bond. 

**Q-- Where did you go? If you were going to run off like that you could have very well let me know.**

**B-- Sorry, darling, I thought you might like some tea as well as a chance to get dressed in private.**

**Q-- I imagine there isn't a whole lot you don't know about my body at this point, I think privacy is a moot point between us, don't you?**

**B-- Just because we spend the night together doesn't mean you have to forfeit your privacy. I am just getting tea now, be up in just a moment. Please don't look in the box on my nightstand.**

**Q-- Of course not. I would never invade your privacy like that.**

**B-- Of course not.**

Q put the phone down and promptly reached for the box, opening it carefully and pulling out the snow globe inside. 

The scene in the little globe looked like an office, with a tiny desk and two chairs. In one chair sat a dark haired man, and leaning over the desk was a blonde haired man, their lips nearly touching in a kiss. 

“Oh.” Q smiled as he held it, smiled bigger when he turned it over and dark green and pale blue sparkles rained down on the pair. “What have you done, James?” 

It had obviously been specially made, and couldn't have been cheap, as nearly every detail about his desk was perfect, from the picture frame where he rotated pictures of Esme and Emerson over to the twenty three nearly miniscule snow globes that sat on the other corner. 

Curious, and halfway hoping it wasn't true, Q turned the globe over so he could peer under the little desk, and blushed furiously, because the little brunette figurine that was supposed to be him was wearing bright pink slippers. 

“You are rubbish at following directions.” Bond said from the door and Q turned with an embarrassed smile. 

“You know about the slippers, then?” 

“Of course I do.” Bond set a cup of tea down on the end table carefully and reached for the snow globe. “It was a ridiculous thing, ordering this. I'm sure the man is still wondering about me ordering a snow globe that had snow globes inside it.” 

“I love it.” Q said honestly and leaned in for a kiss. “But why?” 

“We talked at length yesterday.” Bond shook the globe and let the sparkles swirl again. “About Vesper, and why I have been celibate, and if that conversation did not answer all your questions, let me be perfectly clear when I say that the  _ other  _ reason I am celibate, the reason I have not been continuing on in my usual manner is because I have been wanting to come home to  _ you  _ for quite some time now. I was not, and  _ am not _ , willing to jeopardize what we have by carrying out missions like I used to.” 

“I see.” Q whispered. 

“All those things you aren't ready to talk about.” Bond cleared his throat. “What you whispered last night? I am ready to say it when you are, do you understand?” 

“I understand.” Q looked down at the snowglobe, then back up at Bond with his eyes sparkling. “I think you taking a holiday  _ offline  _ was the best idea I ever had.” 

“ _ You _ ever had?” Bond raised his eyebrow. “Why Quartermaster, did you send in an unfavorable review so I would be forced to take leave and thus end up here, far from London with barely a cell signal to keep in touch with anyone? Was this all some dastardly plan of yours to get me alone?” 

“And you carried your part out perfectly.” Q assured him with a light kiss. 

“I should be scandalized.” Bond said dryly. “But I can't even say I'm the least bit surprised.” 

“No?” Q put his new favorite snowglobe back on the table, then shoved Bond onto the bed and climbed atop him, grinding suggestively over his crotch. “I’ll have to come up with new tricks then.” 

“Mmm.” Bond made a rough noise of agreement, then surged up to meet him, their mouths crashing together in a kiss that grew rapidly out of control, and Bond surprised the hell out of Q when he spread his legs and pushed Q’s slim hips down between his own, encouraging the Quartermaster to rock against him. 

“Yes?” Q asked, his eyes lighting. “Like this?” 

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me, Quartermaster?” Bond asked, rolling his hips lazily and Q nearly shouted with laughter before kissing him hard again. 

His phone trilled just then, and they froze, Bonds eyebrows raised questioningly. “Do you need to get that?” 

“Probably.” Q chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. “But I can be offline for another hour or two before the country goes to shit, hm?” 

“An hour or two at least.” Bond agreed. “Come on then, darling, lets---”

“It's Collin.” Q blurted, eyes wide and nervous. “Collin. My name. If you wanted to use it.” 

“Collin.” Bond purred low in his throat and Q knew he was blushing again. “I'm so glad you have a normal name, I don't think I could shout a name like either of your brothers.” 

“You’re going to bring up my brothers while we are in bed?” Q asked, entirely affronted. 

“Would you rather me talk about John?” Bond challenged. 

“Irritating Agent.” Q said crossly, but he was already working at Bonds belt, urging his hips up so he could slide his trousers down. 

Bond licked a long line up Q’s neck, nibbling behind his ear and humming contentedly when Q nearly collapsed against him. 

“Moody Quartermaster.” 

“ _ Collin _ .” Q said again, firmly and Bond nodded. 

“Collin. Come show this old dog a trick or two, darling.” 

*****************************************

**Epilogue-- Several weeks later**

*****************************************

“ _ 007, when I told you to turn right, I actually meant  _ **_right_ ** _ , not left. Do try to follow my directions _ .” 

“Stop nagging me, Quartermaster.” Bond retorted, ducking around a corner and racing down an alley. “It's your fault I'm even here in the first place.” 

_ “That is completely untrue _ .” 

“Wanker.” Bond said irritably, clambering over a fence and hitting the ground hard on the other side. “Target acquired. Intercepting now.” 

_“Go, Bond, and please remember your mission, try not to get side tracked._ _You have the attention span of an overeager puppy.”_

“I resent that.” 

“ _ Of course you do _ .” 

 

******************

**B-- Collin, love, they were all out of rhubarb pie.**

**Q-- If you would have turned right when I told you to, you probably could have snagged the last one.**

**B-- Keep that attitude up and you won't get any of this blackberry one.**

**Q-- Oh blackberry. Lovely, that's actually mummy’s favorite. She will be very pleased with you.**

**B-- Wonderful. What time is supper.**

**Q-- Weren't you listening when I told you this morning?**

**B-- You had your mouth around my cock this morning, darling, I haven't heard a thing you said all day.**

**Q--**

**Q--**

**Q--Supper is at eight thirty.**

**B--Thank you.**

**Q-- Come home safe, James**

**B--I always do.**


End file.
